CENTAURI VENGEANCE By Darius John Granger George Haven was the most powerful man in the galaxy; now he had returned to Centauri and he was afraid--for his past was staring at him! [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy October 1956 Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Haven began to realize it was a mistake returning to Centauri with his wife even before they reached their hotel. For Louise Haven said, as soon as the Centaurian porters had taken their baggage at the starport with cold, aloof correctness: "Why, George! They don't seem to like you. I thought you would be a hero to them, from what you told me." George Haven said nothing. He was a big, powerful-looking man in his late thirties. He was expensively dressed and he had taken the most expensive suite in Alpha City's best hotel and he had an expensive, young, and beautiful wife. He thought: Today I'm one of the most powerful men in the stellar confederacy. What does she expect, that I'll win a popularity contest too? Well, I guess she'll learn eventually what makes an important man truly important. Could you sum it up in a word, in a single clearly understood word? he wondered. He decided that you could. The word was ruthless. They swept into the hotel with their train of attendants and were received with the same aloof correctness. Haven watched with satisfaction while Louise removed her Sirian furs. Louise was something to look at, all right, but so were the furs. They'd cost Haven plenty and there was probably a trail of blood and tears behind them on Sirius III, for the animals whose coats they were, Haven knew, were ferocious. It was very cold outside, as it always was on Centauri VII. The small, blue-skinned hotel manager said, in crisp, perfect English: "The others are already here, Mr. Haven. They are waiting." Of course the others had already arrived, Haven thought. You had to keep people waiting. Let them know their own importance didn't add up to a hill of beans. "It's a beautiful suite, George," Louise Haven said after they had taken the pneumotube to their floor and entered their suite through the irising door. "At least the Centaurians saved the best for us." "I'll always get the best for you, baby," Haven said, and took this beautiful young woman who had been his wife for exactly two months--long enough to reach Centauri--into his arms and kissed her. Was there something unexpectedly stiff and cold about Louise's response? Haven did not know; he wondered if he had imagined it. Was the coldly correct behavior of the Centaurians getting on his nerves?