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No you don’t, Duncan, Id himself. Tt was an excruciatingly complicated situation. He was quite sure now why Calindy had been avoiding him. Karl would have warned her that he was coming to Earth and would have advised her to keep out of his way. Yes, Karl must have been very worried, up there on little Mnemosyne, lest Duncan stumble upon his activities.

It was essential to keep completely out of the picture; Calindy must never guess that he knew. There was no way in which she could possibly link him with Mandel’stahm, with whom she was already dealing through her own exceedingly discreet intermediary.

Yet still Duncan hesitated, like a chess master over a crucial move. He was analyzing his own motives, and his own conscience, for his personal and official interests were now almost inextricably entangled.

He was anxious to find out what Karl was doing, and if necessary frustrate him. He wanted to make Calindy ashamed of her deceit, and possibly turn her embarrassment to his emotional advantage. (This was a rather forlorn hope;

Calindy did not embarrass easily, if at all…. ) And he wanted to help

Titan, and thereby the Makenzies. All these objectives were not likely to be compatible. Duncan be ian to wish that titanite had never been discovered. Yet, undoubtedly, there was a brilliant opportunity here, if only he had the wit to make his moves correctly.

Their auto jitney was now gliding, at the breathless speed of some twenty klicks, between the Capitol and the Library of Congress. The siqht reminded

Duncan of his other responsibility; already it was the last week in June, yet his speech still consisted of no more than a few sheets of notes.

Overpreparation was one of the Makenzie failings; the “all right on the night” attitude was wholly alien to their natures. But even allowing for this often valuable fault, of which he was well aware, Duncan was beginning to feel a mild sense of panic.

The problem was a very simple one, yet its diagnosis had not suggested a remedy. Try as he could, Duncan had still been unable -to decide on

a basic theme, or any message from Titan more inspiring than the usual zero-content official greetings.

Mandel’stahm was still waiting patiently when they passed the Rayburn

Building-now encrusted with a vast banyan tree brought all the way from

Angkor Wat; it was hoped that within the next fifty years, this would do the job of demolition at vir tm-Pv no nublic expense. There were times when aesthetics took precedence over history, and it was generally agreed that -unlike the old Smithsonian-the Rayburn Building was not quite hideous enough to be worth preservation. (But what would that vegetable octopus do next, the professional alarmists had worried, when it had finished this task? Would the monster crawl across Independence Avenue and attack the hallowed dome?)

Now the jitney was cruising past the prone hundred meters of the Saturn V replica lying on what had once been the site of NASA Headquarters. They could not spend all day orbiting central Washington; very well, Duncan told himself with a sigh … “I have your promise that my name won’t come out, under any circumstances?” Yes,”

“And there’s no risk that-my friend-may get into trouble?”

“I can’t guarantee that He won’t lose any money But there will be no legal problems-at any rate, under Terran jurisdiction.”

“It’s not a ‘he.” I leave the details to you, but you mipht make some tactful inquiries n.bout he vi-(-president of Enigma Associates,

Catherine Linden Ellerman.”

STAR DAY

Though be tried to convince himself that he had done the right thing-even the only thing-Duncan was still slightly ashamed. Deep in his heart, he felt that he had been guilty of betraying an old friendship.

He was glad that some impulse had kept him from mentioning Karl, and with part of his mind he still hoped that Mandel’stahm-and Colin-would run into blank walls, so that the whole investigation would collapse.

Meanwhile, there was so much to be done, and so much to see, that for long periods of time Duncan could forget his twinges of conscience. It seemed ridiculous to have come all the way to Earth-and then to sit for hours of every day (in beautiful weather!) in a hotel room talking into a Cornsole.

But every time Duncan thought he had completed one of the innumerable chores they had given him before he left home, there would be a back-up message reopening the subject, or adding fresh complications. His official duties were time-consuming enough; what made matters worse were all the private requests from relatives, friends, and even complete strangers, who assumed that he had nothing else to do except contact lost acquaintances, obtain photos of ancestral homes, bunt for rare books, research Terran genealogies, locate obscure works of art, act as agent for hopeful Titanian authors and artists, conjure up scholarships and free passages to Earth-and say “Thank you” for Star Day cards received ten years ago and never acknowledged.