The place was dark and damp, and smelled like moldy leaves.Meyerhoff followed the huge, bear-like Altairian guarddown the slippery flagstones of the corridor, sniffing thedead, musty air with distaste. He drew his carefully tailoredTerran-styled jacket closer about his shoulders, shivering as hiseyes avoided the black, yawning cell-holes they were passing.His foot slipped on the slimy flags from time to time, andfinally he paused to wipe the caked mud from his trouser leg."How much farther is it?" he shouted angrily.
The guard waved a heavy paw vaguely into the blacknessahead. Quite suddenly the corridor took a sharp bend, and theAltairian stopped, producing a huge key ring from some obscurefold of his hairy hide. "I still don't see any reason forall the fuss," he grumbled in a wounded tone. "We've treatedhim like a brother."
One of the huge steel doors clicked open. Meyerhoff peeredinto the blackness, catching a vaguely human outline againstthe back wall. "Harry?" he called sharply.
There was a startled gasp from within, and a skinny, gnarledlittle man suddenly appeared in the guard's light, like a grotesque,twisted ghost out of the blackness. Wide blue eyesregarded Meyerhoff from beneath uneven black eyebrows, andthen the little man's face broke into a crafty grin. "Paul! Sothey sent you! I knew I could count on it!" He executed adeep, awkward bow, motioning Meyerhoff into the darkcubicle. "Not much to offer you," he said slyly, "but it's thebest I can do under the circumstances."
Meyerhoff scowled, and turned abruptly to the guard. "We'llhave some privacy now, if you please. Interplanetary ruling.And leave us the light."
The guard grumbled, and started for the door. "It's abouttime you showed up!" cried the little man in the cell. "Greatday! Lucky they sent you, pal. Why, I've been in here foryears—"
"Look, Zeckler, the name is Meyerhoff, and I'm not yourpal," Meyerhoff snapped. "And you've been here for twoweeks, three days, and approximately four hours. You're gettingas bad as your gentle guards when it comes to bandyingthe truth around." He peered through the dim light at thegaunt face of the prisoner. Zeckler's face was dark with aweek's beard, and his bloodshot eyes belied the cocky grinon his lips. His clothes were smeared and sodden, streakedwith great splotches of mud and moss. Meyerhoff's face softeneda little. "So Harry Zeckler's in a jam again," he said."You look as if they'd treated you like a brother."
The little man snorted. "These overgrown teddy-bears don'tknow what brotherhood means, nor humanity, either. Breadand water I've been getting, nothing more, and then only if theyfeel like bringing it down." He sank wearily down on the rockbench along the wall. "I thought you'd never get here! I sentan appeal to the Terran Consulate the first day I was arrested.What happened? I mean, all they had to do was get a manover here, get the extradition papers signed, and provide transportationoff the planet for me. Why so much time? I've beensitting here rotting—" He broke off in mid-sentence and staredat Meyerhoff. "You brought the papers, didn't you? I mean,we can leave now?"
Meyerhoff stared at the little man with a mixture of pity anddisgust. "You are a prize fool," he said finally. "Did you knowthat?"
Zeckler's eyes widened. "What do you mean, fool? So Ispend a couple of weeks in this pneumonia trap. The deal wasworth it! I've got three million credits sitting in the TerranConsulate on Altair V, just waiting for me to walk in and pickthem up. Three million credits—do you hear? That's enoughto set me up for life!"
Meyerhoff nodded grimly. "If you