Without warning, Bart lost his temper.
"I don't care whether I prove it or not! You try proving something for
a change, why don't you? If you know Rupert Steele, I don't have to
prove who I am--just take a good look at me! Or so Briscoe told me--a
man who called himself Briscoe, anyway. He gave me papers to travel
under that name! I didn't ask for them, he shoved them into my hand.
That Briscoe is dead." Bart struck his fist hard on the desk, bending
over Raynor One angrily.
"He sent me to find a man named Raynor Three. But the only one I really
care about finding is my father. Now you know as much as I do, how about
giving me some information for a change?"
He ran out of breath and stood glaring down at Raynor One, fists
clenched. Raynor One got up and said, quick, savage and quiet, "Did
anyone see you come here?"
"Only the girl downstairs."
"How did you get through the Lhari? In that?" He moved his head at the
Mentorian cloak.
Bart explained briefly, and Raynor One shook his head.
"You were lucky," he said, "you could have been blinded. You must have
inherited flash-accommodation from the Mentorian side--Rupert Steele
didn't have it. I'll tell you this much," he added, sitting down again.
"In a manner of speaking, you're my boss. Eight Colors--it used to be
Alpha Transshipping--is what they call a middleman outfit. The
interplanet cargo lines transport from planet to planet within a
system--that's free competition--and the Lhari ships transport from star
to star--that's a monopoly all over the galaxy. The middleman outfits
arrange for orderly and businesslike liaison between the two. Rupert
Steele bought into this company, a long time ago, but he left it for me
to manage, until recently."
Raynor punched a button, said to the image of the glossy girl at the
desk, "Violet, get Three for me. You may have to send a message to the
Multiphase."
He swung round to Bart again. "You want a lot of explanations? Well,
you'll have to get 'em from somebody else. I don't know what this is all
about. I don't want to know: I have to do business with the Lhari. The
less I know, the less I'm apt to say to the wrong people. But I promised
Three that if you turned up, or if anyone came and asked for the Eighth
Color, I'd send you to him. That's all."
He motioned Bart ungraciously to a seat, and shut his mouth firmly, as
if he had already said too much. Bart sat. After a while he heard the
elevator again; the panel slid open and Raynor Three came into the room.