* * * * * There was only one settled city on Vyapore, and because it was the only one it was nameless. Herndon found a room in a cheap boarding-house run by a swine-eared Dombruun, and washed the sweat from his face with the unpleasantly acrid water of the tap. Then he went downstairs into the bright noonday heat. The stench of rotting vegetation drifted in from the surrounding jungle on a faint breeze. Herndon said at the desk, "I'm looking for a Vonnimooro named Mardlin. Is he around?" "Over there," said the proprietor, pointing. Mardlin the Vonnimooro was a small, weaselly-looking creature with the protuberant snout, untrustworthy yellow eyes, and pebbly brown-purple fur of his people. He looked up when Herndon approached. When he spoke, it was in lingua spacia with a whistling, almost obscene inflection. "You looking for me?" "It depends," Herndon said. "Are you Mardlin?" The jackal-creature nodded. Herndon lowered himself to a nearby seat and said in a quiet voice, "Bollar Benjin sent me to meet you. Here are my credentials." He tossed a milky-white clouded cube on the table between them. Mardlin snatched it up hastily in his leathery claws and nudged the activator. An image of Bollar Benjin appeared in the cloudy depths, and a soft voice said, "Benjin speaking. The bearer of this cube is known to me, and I trust him fully in all matters. You are to do the same. He will accompany you to Borlaam with the consignment of goods." The voice died away and the image of Benjin vanished. The jackal scowled. He muttered, "If Benjin sent a man to convey his goods, why must I go?" Herndon shrugged. "He wants both of us to make the trip, it seems. What do you care? You're getting paid, aren't you?" "And so are you," snapped Mardlin. "It isn't like Benjin to pay two men to do the same job. And I don't like you, Rogue." "Mutual," Herndon responded heartily. He stood up. "My orders say I'm to take the freighter _Dawnlight_ back to Borlaam tomorrow evening. I'll meet you here one hour before to examine the merchandise." * * * * * He made one other stop that day. It was a visit with Brennt, a jewelmonger of Vyapore who served as the funnel between the native starstone-miners and Benjin's courier, Mardlin. Herndon gave his identifying cube to Brennt and said, once he had satisfactorily proven himself, "I'd like to check your books on the last consignment." Brennt glanced up sharply. "We keep no books on starstones, idiot. What do you want to know?" Herndon frowned. "We suspect our courier of diverting some of our stones to his own pocket. We have no way of checking up on him, since we can't ask for vouchers of any kind in starstone traffic." The Vyaporan shrugged. "All couriers steal." "Starstones cost us eight thousand stellors apiece," Herndon said. "We can't afford to lose any of them, at that price. Tell me how many are being sent in the current shipment."