Verkan Vall and Dalla were sitting behind Tortha Karf's desk; Vall was
issuing orders over the intercom and talking to the detectives who had
remained at Salgath Trod's apartment by visiscreen; Dalla was sorting
over the things she had spilled when her bag had burst. They both
looked up as Tortha Karf came in and joined them.

"The prisoner's still under the drug," the Chief said. "He'll be out
for a couple of hours; the psych-techs want to let him come out of it
naturally and sleep naturally for a while before they give him a
hypno. He's not a ServSec Prole; uncircumcised, never had any
syntho-enzyme shots or immunizations, and none of the longevity
operations or grafts. Same thing for the two stiffs. And no identity
records on any of the three."

"The men at Salgath's apartment say that his housekeeper and his two
servants checked out through the house conveyer for ServSec
One-Six-Five, at about 1830," Vall said. "There's a Prole
entertainment center on that time line. I suppose Salgath gave them
the evening off before he called you."

Tortha Karf nodded. "I suppose you ordered them picked up. The news
services are going wild about this. I had to make a preliminary
statement, to the effect that Salgath Trod was not arrested, came to
Headquarters of his own volition, and is under no restraint whatever."

"Except, of course, a slight case of rigor mortis," Dalla added. "Did
you mention that, Chief?"

"No, I didn't." Tortha Karf looked as though he had quinine in his