The three words broke the spell. The tension in him snapped suddenly; and he burst out laughing. He laughed so long and loud that the Cobyman’s eyes became shadowed first with puzzlement, and then with a sort of fear.

“No . . . no . . . it’s all right,” he gasped at last. He had a fastidiousness about casually touching people; but now he clapped Lee on the shoulder to reassure him, so unhappy did the lean man look. “See if you can find me a drink—some Dorsai whisky.”

Lee turned and left the room. He was back in seconds with a tulipshaped glass holding perhaps a deciliter of the bronze whisky. Donal drank it down, grateful for the burn in his throat.

“Learn anything about William?” He handed the glass back to Lee.

Lee shook his head.

“Not surprised,” murmured Donal. He frowned. ‘‘Have you seen ArDell Montor around—that Newtonian that came with William?”

Lee nodded.

“Can you show me where I can find him?”

Lee nodded again. He led Donal out onto the terrace, down a short distance, and in through an open wall to the library. There, in one of the little separate reading cubicles, he found ArDell alone with a bottle and some books.

“Thanks, Lee,” said Donal. Lee vanished. Donal came forward and sat down at the small table in the cubicle opposite ArDell and his bottle.

“Greetings,” said ArDell, looking up. He was not more than slightly drunk by his own standards. “Hoping to talk to you.”

“Why didn’t you come up to my room?” asked Donal.

“Not done,” ArDell refilled his glass, glanced about the table for another and saw only a vase with some small native variform lilies in it. He dumped these on the floor, filled the vase and passed it politely to Donal.

“No thanks,” said Donal.

“Hold it anyway,” ArDell said. “Makes me uncomfortable, drinking with a man who won’t drink. No, besides, better to just bump into each other.” He looked at Donal suddenly with one of his unexpected flashes of soberness and shrewdness. “He’s at it again.”

“William?”

“Who else?” ArDell drank. “But what would he be doing with Project Blaine?” ArDell shook his head. “There’s a man. And a scientist. Make two of any of the rest of us. Can’t see him leading Blaine around by the nose—but still . . .”

“Unfortunately,” said Donal, “we are all tied to the business end of our existence by the red tape in our contracts. And it’s in business William shines.”

“But he doesn’t make sense!” ArDell twisted the glass in his hands. “Take me. Why would he want to ruin me? But he does.” He chuckled suddenly. “I’ve got him scared now.”

“You have?” asked Donal. “How?”

ArDell tapped the bottle with one forefinger.

“This. He’s afraid I may kill myself. Evidently he doesn’t want that.”

“Will you?” asked Donal, bluntly.

ArDell shook his head.