Margot slapped his face and sat stiffly in her cloak while he paddled to the other side of the river. Vardin sat like a statue. Ramsey had come to a conclusion: he did not like letting Margot know how he felt about her, but it was mostly on a straight physical level and he preferred her discovering it to her learning that he'd read the proto-man letter from her father. In his thoughts, though, he never designated it as the proto-man letter from her father. He designated it as X. When they reached the bank, Margot said: "I'm sorry for slapping you." "I'm sorry for making a pass." "Ramsey, tell me, what is X?" Ramsey laughed harshly and said nothing. That gave Margot something to think about. Maybe it would keep her thoughts out of his mind, keep her from reading.... X marks the spot, thought Ramsey. XXX marks the spot-spot-spot. X is a spot in a pot or a lot of rot.... "Oh, stop it!" Margot cried irritably. "You're thinking nonsense." "Then get the heck out of my mind," Ramsey told her. Vardin walked on without speaking. If she had any inkling of what they were talking about, she never mentioned it. Margot said: "I still get the impression." "What impression?" "That we're being followed. That we're being watched. Every step of the way." Wind and cold and darkness. The hairs on the back of Ramsey's neck prickled. They walked on, bent against the wind. * * * * * Security Officer Second Class Ramar Chind reported to his Chief in the Hall of Retribution the following morning. Chind, a career man with the Irwadi Security Forces, did not like his new boss. Garr Symm was no career man. He knew nothing of police procedure. It was even rumored--probably based upon solid fact--that Garr Symm liked his brandy excessively and often found himself under its influence. Worst of all--after all, a man could understand a desire for drink, even if, sometimes, it interfered with work--worst of all, Garr Symm was a scientist, a dome-top in the Irwadi vernacular. And hard-headed Ramar Chind lost no love on dome-tops. He saluted crisply and said: "You wanted to see me, sir?" * * * * * Garr Symm leaned forward over his desk, making a tent of his scaly green fingers and peering over it. He said three words. He said: "The Earthgirl Dennison." "The Spacer Graveyard," Ramar Chind said promptly. That was an easy one. His agents had been following the Dennison girl, at Garr Symm's orders. Ramar Chind did not know why. "And?" Garr Symm asked. "The Earthman Ramsey, the Vegan Vardin, both are with her. We can close in and arrest the lot, sir, any time you wish." "Fool," Garr Symm said softly, without malice. "That is the last thing I want. Don't you understand that? No, I guess you don't." "Yes, sir." "Their ship?" "Every morning after they leave we go over it. Still two or three nights away from completion, sir. Also--" Ramar Chind smiled. "Yes, what is it?"