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logically so. There was little need for Tran to come here, since all trade and
commerce were handled at the port.
Inside the circular main lobby a small, glowing di-rectory hung suspended in
midair. The Commisioner's office was located on the third floor. They had to
wait their turn at the small lift.
At the top they discovered that the Commission-er's suite was the third floor.
They stepped from the lift directly into busy outer offices occupied by a
great many large machines and two subsized humans, one male, one female. No
one else was in sight.
Ethan's first impression of excessive ornateness was reinforced by the carpet.
A glance showed his trained eye that it was strictly luxury material, an
import probably from Mantis or maybe Long Tunnel.
Genetic manipulation had produced a natural substance with the look and feel
of grass, the resistance of rubber, and the durability of dilyonite. The
result was a pleasant-smelling and remarkably buoyant floor covering. It was
very expensive. And though he wasn't conver-sant with diplomatic purchasing
guidelines, somehow he didn't think that verdidion weave was standard decor
for minor offworld offices, even that of a Resident Commissioner.
A young man who looked as if he could stand a dozen good meals occupied the
desk nearest the lift. His
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Alan Dean Foster - Mission to Moulokin fingers danced over and across
machinery and consoles with controlled jerkiness.
Ethan's eyes rose ceilingward, encountered the ex-pected mosaic. Four circles
of equal size met to form a crude square. The two nearest him were marked with
stylized representations of continents, showing both hemispheres of Terra.
Tangent to these two, the other pair had similar maps inlaid. These
represented the two hemispheres of Hivehom, the home world of humanity's
partner in the Commonwealth, the insec-toid thranx.
Centered among these four larger circles and tangent to all of them was a
single smaller circle. A vertical hourglass of bright blue, symbolizing Terra,
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was crossed by a horizontal hourglass of brilliant green sig-nifying Hivehom.
They formed the shape of the ancient Maltese cross, and where they merged the
colors blended into aquamarine, the signet hue of the United Church. Since
this was a Commonwealth and not a Church installation, the cross was
surrounded by a field of crimson, the color of the
Commonwealth.
The straw man seemed to take notice of them. He turned, greeted them
indifferently, hands still jerking and darting as if hunting for a rest never
to be granted.
"May I help you, sirs?" His eyes narrowed slightly then and he concentrated a
touch more intently on them. "I don't think I know either of you." He had
as-sumed a faintly disapproving air. "I thought I knew everyone in the
outpost."
"We didn't arrive via the usual channels," Sep-tember said.
Ethan tried to make himself sound important. "We'd like to see the Resident
Commissioner."
The man wasn't impressed. "Concerning?" He spoke to Ethan, but his gaze
remained fixed on September.
Ethan thought a moment. "Possibly crucial de-velopments involving native
affairs."
"What kind of developments? Are you two attached to the xenology team here?" A
hand brushed back straight blond hair, rubbed at the side of a small sharp
nose, moved down to pull at the hem of his shirt and work up the other side to
brush once again at the un-ruly hair.
Actually, the itch was concentrated not in hair, nose, or shirt. Instead, it
was permanently located in the man's mind. Since he couldn't scratch that very
well, he settled as did many others for rubbing parts of his anatomy that had
nothing to do with his con-dition.
"We'd rather tell it to the Commissioner," said Ethan, trying his best not to
sound difficult.
"Do you have an appointment? I don't recall any appointments scheduled for
this afternoon."
"Blessed!" snapped the woman at the other desk, speaking for the first time.
She was a stout lady who looked slightly older than September, and she sounded
exasperated with her colleague. "If they're strangers here, then they must
have come in on that big native ship." The straw man showed no reaction.
"Didn't you hear about it?"
"I've been at my desk for the last several days, Eulali. You know I don't
listen much to post gossip."
"No wonder you never learn anything," she sighed. "Anything they have to say
could be important. Never mind that they came in on that ship. Just the fact
that they're strangers."
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