Kingsley leaned forward. “Oh, I see. A fellow aficionado? Big chap, isn’t he?”

“Not a fellow connoisseur, no. Now then, if you would be good enough to do something interesting to the young lady? Elicit a dramatic response, if you will. That’s a good lad!”

The young man bent over and did something with the silvery instrument. His upper torso obscured most of the motion. A long, high-pitched scream came through the receiver. It held for several seconds, then broke into a series of uneven choking coughs. Surprisingly, this was followed by a heated series of strong, unfeminine curses worthy of any dock-loader. The instrument moved again. Another scream, a little weaker this time.

“Stop that,” said Mal.

Rose spoke into the pencil. “All right, Russell, that’s enough. Don’t damage her.” The screaming stopped. There were no curses this time. Just silence.

“Use that thing in your hand, old man. Turn it off.”

Rose smiled, did something to the pencil and slipped it back into his pocket. After a second’s thought, he removed it again but did not activate the picture.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to postpone your fun for now, Russell. But I promise you an equally interesting toy later tonight. Sorry to disappoint you, lad. I know how you were looking forward to this.”

“Aw, Uncle Rose . . .”

Rose tut-tutted into the mike. “Business, my young friend, business.” Once again the device was returned to the oldster’s coat.

“We are about to make an exchange, then? Don’t you even want to know who she is?”

“No. I may trouble to find out later; I don’t now.” The shipmaster obviously did not wish to talk.

“I’d think you might.” His Lordship’s leer invited a helping of knuckles. Mal had practiced controlling himself too long to let it lapse now.

“As to the protocol of exchange,” began Rose briskly, “I’m a reasonable man. Things will be kept simple. Oh, you might promise me the young lady’s silence in this matter. She is a government operative and will be difficult to convince. Likewise her furry friend. But I have confidence something workable can be arranged. It’s a little thing now, anyway.”

“Yeah,” said Mal. He was staring at the converted video.

“So.” Rose moved to a complex-looking desk and produced a small book with a pressure seal. He activated it with a twist, began riffling pages. “I don’t expect you to have someone deliver the stuff to my front door, as one would receive dinner at his home in the city. I’ll supply you the address of an operative of mine near the main Port, in Repler City. As soon as the case is delivered intact into his possession and he considers himself safe—you may keep the spices if you prefer, they’re quite good—you, the young lady, and her friend will be permitted to board your craft. You will call your pilot and explain the delay. My men will do nothing to make him believe things are other than normal. You may consider escape, if you wish. Quite impossible.