For a moment, pulled off balance in the fat stranger's hug, Bart
remained perfectly still, while the man repeated in that loud, jovial
voice, "How you've grown!" He let him go, stepping away a pace or two,
and whispered urgently, "Say something. And take that stupid look off
your face."
As he stepped back, Bart saw his eyes. In the chubby, good-natured red
face, the stranger's eyes were half-mad with fear.
In a split second, Bart remembered the two Lhari and their talk of a
fugitive. In that moment, Bart Steele grew up.
He stepped toward the man and took him quickly by the shoulders.
"Dad, you sure surprised me," he said, trying to keep his voice from
shaking. "Been such a long time, I'd--half forgotten what you looked
like. Have a good trip?"
"About like always." The fat man was breathing hard, but his voice
sounded firm and cheerful. "Can't compare with a trip on the old
Asterion though." The Asterion was the flagship of Vega Interplanet,
Rupert Steele's own ship. "How's everything?"
Beads of sweat were standing out on the man's ruddy forehead, and his
grip on Bart's wrist was so hard it hurt. Bart, grasping at random for
something to say, gabbled, "Too bad you couldn't get to my graduation. I
made th-third in a class of four hundred--"
The Lhari had surrounded them and were closing in.
The fat man took a deep breath or two, said, "Just a minute, Son," and
turned around. "You want something?"
The tallest of the Lhari--the old one, whom Bart had seen on the
escalator--looked long and hard at him. When they spoke Universal, their
voices were sibilant, but not nearly so inhuman.
"Could we trrrouble you to sssshow us your paperrrssss?"
"Certainly." Nonchalantly, the fat man dug them out and handed them
over. Bart saw his father's name printed across the top.
The Lhari gestured to a Mentorian interpreter: "What colorrr isss thisss
man's hairrr?"
The Mentorian said in the Lhari language, "His hair is gray." He used
the Universal word; there were, of course, no words for colors in the
Lhari speech.
"The man we sssseek has hair of red," said the Lhari. "And he isss
tall, not fat."
"The boy is tall and with red hair," the Mentorian volunteered, and
the old Lhari made a gesture of disdain.
"This boy is twenty years younger than the man whose description came to
us. Why did they not give us a picture or at least a name?" He turned to
the other Lhari and said in their own shrill speech, "I suspected this
man because he was alone. And I had seen this boy on the upper mezzanine
and spoken with him. We watched him, knowing sooner or later the father
would seek him. Ask him." He gestured and the Mentorian said, "Who is
this man, you?"