The island thus remained almost entirely in a virgin state. The natural profusion of greenery was encouraged by judicious additions of organic fertilizers, powerful plant foods, and professional verdurement. Thick cycads, ferns, sporophytes and horsetails grew to the waterline, dipping graceful fronds into the slightly salty tideflow. In some places they even mingled with the sea-plants which grew sunwards from the seabottom, forming an unbroken wall of green against which water lapped viscously.

The Tower itself was constructed of parallel vertical bands of a coppery bronze alloy and panes of opaque black glass.

Takaharu guided the raft among the few small commercial craft which plied the artificial harbor. They headed towards a single long, floating dock. An anchored walkway led towards the Tower.

Mal glanced at the console. “All right, Maijib. You can acknowledge their calls now.” Since Kingsley was overtly legitimate, they could expect to approach his property closely without fearing the gift of a missile or mine. But now at least a cursory greeting was in order.

The first mate flipped on the comm. Immediately a harried voice filled the cabin. It was also officious and slightly bellicose.

“ . . . a private residence! Identify yourselves, please! This area is defined as . . .’

Hammurabi leaned over the mike for the second time in two days. “Malcolm Hammurabi, Captain-owner of the free freighter Umbra, and First Mate, along with Lieutenants United Church Kitten Kai-sung and Porsupah, and engineer Philip . . . Philip . . .” Mal glanced back at the lanky youngster. In all this time he hadn’t thought to ask the fellow’s last name.

“Lynx,” the engineer replied.

“ . . . Philip Lynx, to see merchant-trader Chatham Kingsley, and is the old S.O.B. at home or not?”

“I beg your modification, Captain! I might inform you that . . .”

“Never mind, Hulen,” a cultured, even voice broke in.

“Yes sir,” the unlucky Hulen replied. He sounded subdued. The voice returned.

“Is that you, Hammurabi? This is the old S.O.B. himself. What brings you down from orbit? I thought you hated anything over half a gee. Your credit, in full, has already been transceived to your ship’s account on Terra. I’d have thought you’d have checked on that long ago.”

“I did. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Well, then?”

“I’m peeved, Kingsley, peeved.”

“And presumably I’m the one who’s peeved you, eh? All right, come on up. Or down, rather. And bring your friends with you. We’ll see if we can’t unpeeve you.”

Firm as its footing in the sloping Pecces was, the wide delivery-way shifted slightly under their feet with the action of the tide. A human butler met them at the entrance to the black and gold structure.

“The master awaits you in the viewing room, sirs and lady. The sixteenth level.” The elegantly appointed servant directed them to a room-sized elevator. It was more than large enough to hold them all comfortably. Kitten depressed the stud marked 16 and the lift started to move.