|
work of a
door was imprinted upon the darkness and within its boundaries, a
darkish man whose eyes caught the glint of yellow from the flame
and reflected the light like two tiny moons reflect the suns rays.
"Nat?"
His name was Nathianel. Nate, to friends and enemies alike--
Nat, to the woman who's voice came out of the darkness behind him.
If the light from the match had remained for a moment longer than
it had, and had he been facing her, he was certain Saori Furuya would have
been surprised by the look of wonder on his face, for in his mind
he was back in the research shack, staring into the unearthly
bluish light of a radio scope which painted something that should
not have been there. Had not been there when he had begun his
initial search for the pleasure yaght enroute to the capitol and
carrying a most human bit of cargo that he had waited for with
trepedation. But abruptly there when he had twisted controls to
increase the scopes sensitivity, appearing dim, nearly indis-
cernable, masked by the stronger return of the ship he had
searched for and appearing almost as a ghost.
He swore silently to himself. So much had not been done,
could not be done; was not done and he was not certain why. He
could have radioed in his first observations, irregardless of what
he
|
