Chapter II

Shirley Mason said, "But that's just it, Roy. Phrecle knows that _dodlig_ isn't good for us, but maybe he didn't know it was fatal. Perhaps some of the other Vaec don't even know that it will hurt us all--just thinks it tastes funny, perhaps."

Roy Auckland's eyes narrowed, and he wondered if Dr. Howard James had been thinking of murder when he made his invitation. No, it didn't seem likely that James would have been reticent about such a matter.

"If I know the doc," he said, "he won't buy an explanation like that. Not without positive proof; in this instance, some Vaec admitting that he put the _dodlig_ into the thermos. Where would the opportunity come in?"

"That's it, Roy. Doc's note asked me to run a test on the soup and keep it quiet, said it might be just a joke, that maybe Phrecle was making it all up. But Phrecle was right; there was _dodlig_ in it." She blinked. "Only no one could have put it in there between the time I filled the thermos and the time Phrecle took it out of the crawler. Besides, you just can't conceal that odor."

"Is the skipper around?"

"Captain Edholm's out at the diggings. There's no one here but us. No one's been here since they left except Ekem-ve, and he hasn't come in yet. I didn't leave the kitchen between the time I fixed breakfast and made up the soup for lunch--you're galley slave next week, by the way--and no one could have done it while I was there."

"Anybody come into the kitchen?"

"Everybody was in at one time or another. But you know you can smell _dodlig_ a quarter of a mile away when it's cut or bruised."

"I know ..." he mused, thinking of Glamis coming in a couple of days ago after scraping against _dodlig_ and nearly collapsing when he took off his suit. It had taken hours to get rid of it.

"It isn't the odor," Shirley explained. "It's the irritating action on the nasal membranes. Glamis might have smelled it through his mask and thought nothing of it. But when you get a full whiff, it's like ammonia, only much worse."

Auckland ran his fingers through his black hair. From what he knew of Dr. Howard James, the man would probably say nothing to the others, but try to lay some sort of subtle trap. "How was it discovered?" he asked.

"Well, Phrecle says that Doc sent him to the tent for something, and he smelled _dodlig_ as he passed the lunch basket. He went back to James, took him aside, and said something like--" she closed her eyes in thought "--'deplorable taste when joke render subject too sick to laugh.' Doc told him to take the thermos back here and get a replacement before lunch. I ran the test, scribbled a note to Doc, and gave Phrecle a fresh thermos a little while ago."

Auckland could visualize it. James would call everyone together at lunch time and go into the usual talk about his theories, watching to see the expressions on their faces as he ate his soup and failed to drop dead. "You tested it, Shirl. But why didn't I get a whiff? I was here, and you know how that stuff penetrates."

"Phrecle observed, and I quote, '_Dodlig_ mortified by mixture with excellent Howard's soup and withdraw pleasing aroma. Just barely do this unobservant one ascertain fragrance when pick up thermos.'" She shuddered. "Apparently they like the odor--which isn't so bad, I suppose, if it doesn't react on the nasal passages--but they don't eat the plant."

"If you couldn't smell it, how did you find it?"

"Leitfred's chemists worked out a formula for spotting _dodlig_ no matter how it's disguised, because the pollen sometimes gets on otherwise edible plants and makes them deadly, too, though they don't pick up the odor."

"Just as deadly?"

"Well, no one has tried, but you'd probably have to eat more of them to get the effect."

Auckland took a cigarette from the container on the desk and tossed another to the girl. By the time he put it to his lips, the chemicals in the tip had reacted to start it glowing. "Did you check to see if _dodlig_ loses its 'pleasing aroma' when mixed with the soup at any temperature, or whether it has to be boiled?"

"No. I didn't experiment with _dodlig_. I just identified its presence in the soup. Want me to try that?"

Auckland grinned wryly. "Just a thought, and not a very good one. I thought that since you boil Carolinian plants and then add powdered concentrates to it--but that's no good. Even if the _dodlig_ were tossed in here--and I can think of a way it could be done without making a stink...."

"How? Don't tell me that you've figured out a way to do it?"

"Elementary. We all take gelatin capsules. One of those could have been opened, emptied out, and _dodlig_ substituted. It would melt in no time when put in boiling soup. Those capsules melt fast in almost any liquid. But that isn't how it was done."

"It isn't? How can you be sure?"

"You just told me yourself why it couldn't have been that way." He grinned at her, then went on. "You said that Phrecle 'ascertain fragrance' when he picked up the thermos bottle, which meant that he smelled _dodlig_ in it from a distance, before he picked up the bottle. Phrecle helped load the crawler this morning--I saw him--so he couldn't have missed that 'fragrance' had it been there then."

Shirley Mason stubbed out her cigarette. "I wish I could think it was just a joke, a mistake, but...."

"But you don't think it could have been. Nor do I."

"But suppose some Vaec didn't realize that the odor would be undetectable to us under the circumstances?" she protested. "Someone who thought we'd find out in time."

Auckland shook his head. "No good. I've been studying the Vaec and their humor since I arrived. This just isn't right for them. First of all, they restrain their pranks with us. Secondly, there's nothing malicious about their horseplay among themselves. They wouldn't see anything funny in spoiling food."

"But why...?"

There was a bewildered look in Shirley's eyes, but Auckland reminded himself that she might be acting. He gripped her shoulder gently. "Don't be naive. Now that it's happened, I can think of possibilities, and so can you."

"For murder? Yes ... I suppose so. But not with Doc as the victim. I could see him braining Glamis some time when Ken is riding him about his theories. I could see Burleigh taking vengeance when Glamis starts spouting what Calvin calls needless blasphemy. And I could see someone poisoning Amelia James. But Dr. James as the victim? No."

"You don't think Amelia might like to be a widow?"

Shirley snorted. "What for? The only tie that binds those two is financial, and even that is as loose a binding as you can get without its falling off by itself. She has more money than he has, and she thought that coming to an alien planet--not too alien so as to be uncomfortable--would be romantic."

"She doesn't strike me as being disillusioned on that score," Roy said thoughtfully. "Amelia seems to like it here."

"Of course, with four virile and not too repulsive men around, in addition to her husband. Howard isn't senile, despite the difference in their ages." Shirley took another cigarette. "She hasn't neglected you, either, when it comes to picking nightflowers." She shook his hand off her shoulder and went back to her typewriter.

She sounded jealous, he thought, except that there didn't seem to be any reason. He'd seen her wandering off with Kenneth Glamis, too. He looked out the window. "Hello," he said, "here comes the crawler with Burleigh driving it."

The blonde went to the window and looked out at the all-purpose vehicle which was approaching with its treads retracted. Before she could comment, Ekem-ve entered, carrying the box they had seen earlier.

Auckland gave the traditional greeting: "May your heart be mirthful."

"And may laughter lighten your life," replied the Carolinian. He looked at Shirley Mason, and the single hair atop his skull made rippling motions. "The Earth female makes our affections sing when she follows the dress of the Vaec."

Shirley smiled. "How are the designs, Ekem-ve? I tried to make just straight lines and angles, and little shaded patches the way you do. I hope I haven't come up with anything inartistic by your standards."

Ekem-ve's hair looped and unlooped lazily. "Most pleasing to a Vaec would be such symbols. I would dance indeed to see them on the dress of a female whom I found desirable in my eyes."

She watched the single hair's motion for a moment, then studied the native's face. "What--what do they mean, Ekem-ve?"

The Carolinian's hair was looping more rapidly now, as he pointed. "This symbol says that you have laid three double-yolked eggs this season. That one says that your last few lovers were superbly amusing, and that the lover you now seek must even so be a mighty man of mirth." He paused and his hair made a side-to-side.

"About this one I am far from certain, even as our own females delight in ambiguity. It seems to my inept comprehension that you do declare that your family has proclaimed your aroma more pungent than _dodlig_, even though you are unable to lie in mud more than six hours, as our females do to improve their skins. On the other hand, it might...."

Shirley was no longer listening; she had left the room.

Auckland laughed heartily. "Is that true, Ekem-ve, or are you joking?" The Vaec never lied, he knew, but what was spoken in jest among them was not considered amenable to standards of truth. However, custom required that a Vaec reply truthfully if asked directly whether he was joking.

"The female is a female still with you and me, excellent Roy, however differently we were created. Seeking in wisdom to avoid souring mirth, I did not translate completely." Auckland remembered another thing about the Vaec. It was not considered a lie to withhold part of the truth; and even when asked directly, no more information need be given than was specifically requested. Only the motion of his hair indicated that Ekem-ve was still chuckling, as it were.

"But the designs you interpreted did mean what you said they meant?" he asked.

"They did indeed, excellent Roy. I have brought with me the box that excellent Howard requested for study. May I take it to his room, or some other place, at your judicious suggestion?"

"I would not impose upon you by asking you to take it to the laboratory, Ekem-ve. If you would leave it here, it is better that I demean myself." After such a reply, the Vaec would insist upon running the errand.

"May your heart be mirthful, Ekem-ve," came Burleigh's voice as the lean, spade-bearded man entered. He waited for the response, then said to Auckland, "The skipper wants the three of you to come out to the diggings, and bring the spare Rouse cameras. Would you excuse us, Ekem-ve, while I deliver a personal message?"

The Carolinian blinked the Vaec equivalent of nodding or shaking one's head. "This unworthy one will take box to lab and await excellent Earth people in crawler." He wiggled a finger in the parting gesture the Vaec used when leaving Earthmen. Auckland wondered what situations among the Vaec dictated the slap of farewell and the finger wiggling. He'd seen both used in what appeared to be similar occasions.

Burleigh waited until the Carolinian had gone out the other door, heading for the lab. "The situation is far from mirthful. Howard thinks that someone is trying to kill him, and things are pretty sticky--particularly Glamis. There's a fit subject for a violent end if I ever saw one, Lord forgive my spite."

"Shirley's changing costume, I think. I'll round her up." He was frowning as he started toward the door to her room, which adjoined the office. Had James revealed his suspicions so soon?

Burleigh had seated himself and taken a cigarette. "All nonsense if you ask me. But you know how Doc is when he gets an idea. Came up out of the cellar where he was studying murals like something out of Dante's Hell, ordering everyone outside on the double. When he had us rounded up--except for the natives--he started talking about hearing something ticking. Says he noticed that one of the blocks in the wall was pushed out slightly. Has it all figured out that someone rigged up a homemade bomb and concealed it there, set to go off while he was working in the room."

"Did you hear anything yourself?"

"He wouldn't let any of us go down there with him in the first place, so no one knows if he saw or heard anything. The skipper takes it seriously, so we're all waiting for an explosion!"