“Thank you,” he said, slipping the robe on. “Now I want both of you to stand over there and not bother us for a while.” He pointed to a spot near the farthest wall, and both fali immediately walked over to it and stood motionless.

“They seem very obedient,” remarked Cain as Stern led him to a grouping of chairs and couches.

“Obedient and docile,” agreed Stern, sprawling on a couch and staring at them with unconcealed desire.

“That oil on their skins—is it normal?”

“Why should you suppose that it isn’t?”

Cain shrugged. “It just seems rather unusual.”

“It is,” replied Stern, smiling at the fali. “It smells like the finest perfume.” He turned to Cain. “Go over and experience it for yourself.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“As you wish,” said Stern with a shrug. “It feels exquisite, as well—soft and sensual. Actually, I’m convinced that it’s a secondary sexual characteristic. It doesn’t do much for Men, of course,” he added with marked insincerity, “but I imagine it drives their boyfriends right out of their minds. Seductive odor, sensual feel.” He stared admiringly at them again. “It makes them look like a pair of alien mermaids emerging from the water.” Suddenly he tore his gaze away from them and turned back to Cain. “So Geronimo Gentry sent you here?”

“Yes.”

“I thought he’d be dead by now.”

“Not quite,” said Cain, finally taking a seat.

“How is he getting along?”

“He’s got a bar and whorehouse out on Keepsake,” replied Cain. “I guess he’s doing all right. Talks too much, though.”

“He always did.” Stern paused. “Why did he send you here?”

“He told me that you might have some information I need.”

“Very likely I do. I know an inordinate number of things. Did he also tell you that I’m not a charitable institution?”

“If he hadn’t, I would have figured it out after seeing some of your trinkets,” said Cain, nodding toward a number of alien artifacts that were prominently displayed.

“I’m a collector,” said Stern with a broad smile.

“So I gathered.”

“You haven’t yet told me what business you’re in, Mr. Cain.”

“I’m a collector, too,” replied Cain.

“Really?” said Stern, suddenly more interested. “And what is it that you collect?”

“People.”

“There’s a good market for them,” said Stern. “But unlike my collection, they don’t increase in value.”

“There’s one who does.”

“So you want to know about Santiago.” It was not a question.

Cain nodded. “That’s what I’m here for. You’re the only person who’s seen him.”

Stern laughed in amusement. “His organization spans the entire galaxy. Don’t you think any of them ever see him?”

“Then let me amend my statement,” said Cain. “You’re the only person I know who’s seen him.”