"Don't reach for your needlebeam, ex-Citizen Barrent. I can assure you, it won't operate in the blanketed area around this house. And if you draw it, you'll be hurt." "How?" "I have my own means of protection." "How did you know my name?" "I've known about you almost since you set foot upon Earth. We are not entirely without resources you know. But we can discuss all that inside. Won't you come in?" "I think I'd rather not." "I'm afraid you have to. Come, Barrent, I won't bite you." "Am I under arrest?" "Of course not. We're simply going to have a little talk. That's right, sir, right through there. Just make yourself comfortable." Chapter Twenty-Eight Dravivian led him into a large room paneled in walnut. The furniture was of a heavy, black wood, intricately carved and varnished. The desk, high and straight, seemed to be an antique. A heavy tapestry covered one entire wall. It depicted, in fading colors, a medieval hunting scene. "Do you like it?" Dravivian asked. "My family did the furnishing. My wife copied the tapestry from an original in the Metropolitan Museum. My two sons collaborated on the furniture. They wanted something ancient and Spanish in feeling, but with more comfort than antiques usually give. A slight modification of the lines accomplished that. My own contributions are not visible. Music of the baroque period is my specialty." "Aside from policework," Barrent said. "Yes, aside from that." Dravivian turned away from Barrent and looked thoughtfully at the tapestry. "We will come to the matter of the police in due course. Tell me first, what do you think of this room?" "It's very beautiful," Barrent said. "Yes. And?" "Well--I'm no judge." "You _must_ judge," Dravivian said. "In this room you can see Earth's civilization in miniature. Tell me what you think of it." "It feels lifeless," Barrent said.