"A University League explorer was investigating the planet. Eltak contacted them and obtained the guarantee of a full pardon and a large cash settlement in return for what he could tell them about the Hlats. They took him and this one specimen along for experimentation." "What about the Hlats on the _Camelot_?" "Eltak said those had been quite recently trapped on the island." Cooms ran his fingers over the cylinder, producing a rapid series of squeaks and whistles. "That's one thing Yaco may not like," he observed. "They won't have a monopoly on the thing." Quillan shook his head. "Their scientists don't have to work through red tape like the U-League. By the time the news breaks--if the Federation ever intends to break it--Yaco will have at least a five-year start on everyone else. That's all an outfit like that needs." He looked at Kinmarten. "Any little thing you haven't thought to tell us, friend?" he inquired pleasantly. A thin film of sweat showed suddenly on Kinmarten's forehead. "No, sir," he said. "I've really told you everything I know. I--" "Might try him under dope," Cooms said absently. "Uh-uh!" Quillan said, "I want him wide awake to help me bait the cubicle for the thing. Has Velladon shown any indication of becoming willing to co-operate in hunting it?" Cooms gestured with his head. "Ask Fluel! I sent him down to try to patch things up with the commodore. He just showed up again." Quillan glanced around. The Duke was lounging in the doorway. He grinned slightly, said, "Velladon's still sore at us. But he'll talk to Quillan. Kinmarten here ... did he tell you his wife's on the Star?" Brock Kinmarten went utterly white. Cooms looked at him, said softly, "No, that must have slipped his mind." Fluel said, "Yeah, Well, she is. And Ryter says they'll have her picked up inside half an hour. When they bring her in, we really should check on how candid Kinmarten's been about everything." The rest warden said in a voice that shook uncontrollably, "Gentlemen, my wife knows absolutely nothing about these matters! I swear it! She--" Quillan stood up. "Well, I'll go see if I can't get Velladon in a better mood. Are you keeping that Hlat-talker, Cooms?" Cooms smiled. "I am." "Marras figures," the Duke's flat voice explained, "that if the thing comes into the room and he squeaks at it a few times, he won't get hurt." "That's possible," Cooms said, unruffled. "At any rate, I intend to hang on to it." "Well, I wouldn't play around with those buttons too much," Quillan observed. "Why not?" "You might get lucky and tap out some pattern that spells 'Come to chow' in the Hlat's vocabulary." * * * * *