"How are you? Everything under control? I'm waiting for you." Hesitantly he said, "I'm fine now. But--Beth, I don't know how to say this--will you believe me when I say that a friend of mine just phoned, and wants me to meet him right away downtown?" "Now? But it's after eleven!" "I know. He's--a strange sort." "I thought you didn't have any friends on Earth, Major Harris. You said you were lonely." "He's not really a _friend_. He's a business associate. From IDC." "Well, I'm not accustomed to having men stand me up. But I don't have any choice, do I?" "Good girl. Make it a date for breakfast in the morning instead?" "Lousy substitute, but it'll have to do. See you at nine." CHAPTER III The rendezvous-point the other operative had named was a street corner in another quarter of the city. Harris hired a helitaxi to take him there. It was a nightclub district, all bright lights and brassy music. A figure leaned against the lamppost on the southeast corner of the street. Harris crossed to him. In the brightness of the streetlamp he saw the man's face: lean, lantern-jawed, solemn. Harris said, "Pardon me, friend. Do you know where I can buy a mask for the carnival?" It was the recognition-query. The other answered, in a deep harsh voice, "Masks are expensive. Stay home." He thrust out his hand. Harris took it, gripping the wrist in the Darruui way, and grinned. Eleven hundred light-years from home and he beheld a fellow Servant of the Spirit! "I'm Major Abner Harris." "Hello. I'm John Carver. There's a table waiting for us inside." "Inside" turned out to be the Nine Planets Club, across the street. The atmosphere inside was steamy and smoke-clouded; bubbles of light drifted round the ceiling. A row of long-limbed nudes pranced gaily to the accompaniment of the noise that passed for music on Terra. The surgeons, Harris thought, had never managed to instill a liking for Terran music in him. Carver said quietly, "Have you had any trouble since you arrived?" "No. Should I expect any?" The lean man shrugged. "There are one hundred Medlin agents on Earth right now. Yesterday we discovered a cache of secret Medlin documents. We have the names of the hundred and their photographs. We also know they plan to wipe us out." "How many Darruui are on Earth?" "You are the tenth to arrive." Harris' eyes widened. One hundred Medlins against ten Darruui! "Stiff odds," he said. Carver nodded. "But we know their identities. We can strike first. Unless we eliminate them, we will not be able to proceed with our work here." The music reached an ear-splitting crescendo. Moodily Harris stared at the nude chorus-line as it gyrated. He sensed some glandular disturbance at the sight, and frowned. By Darruui standards, the girls were obscenely ugly. But this was not Darruu. He said, "How do we go about eliminating them?"