50 in 50

A brief walk took them to the palace. The streets weren't crowded, and the native Andriadans had a very low curiosity quotient. They made way for the white-haired Earthman, but did it in an automatic manner, their long legs working like stilts.

"Beanpoles!" Kai muttered, offended by the exaggerated length of their legs and thin forms. Any one of them could have stepped over him without breaking stride.

Kai had his notes concealed in an Andriadan guidebook. He apparently read from the book, nodding at the pink, scale-covered wall in front of them. "This is the main gate, the one the car came out of. At exactly 2135 hours according to the guard's log. It turned down the street behind us."

"And Prince Mello was alone in it?" Petion asked.

"The driver said he was, and so did the gate guard. One driver, one passenger."

"All right. How far did they go?" He led the way down the street.

"Just as far as this corner here," Kai said, seemingly pointing at a mobile of ceramic bells that hung from the building, tinkling in the wind. "The Prince shouted 'Stop' and the driver hit the brakes. Before the car had completely stopped moving the prince opened the right-hand door and jumped out, running down this passage." They followed the route the unlucky Prince had taken a year earlier, Kai tracing the course with his notes.

"The Prince left no orders, nor did he return. After a few minutes the driver began to be worried. He followed the same way — as far as this little intersection — and found the Prince lying on the ground."

"Dead from a stab wound in the heart, lying alone, soaked with his own blood," Petion added. "And no one saw him, or heard him or had the slightest idea what had happened."

He turned in a slow circle, looking at the intersection. Mostly blank walls broken by a few doors. There was no one in sight. Two other streets led away from the small square.

There was a thin creak of unoiled ceramic and Petion turned quickly. One of the doors had opened and a tall Andriadan stood looking at them, blinking. His eyes met the Earthman's for a single instant. Then he stepped back and closed the door.

"I wonder if that door is locked?" Petion asked. Kai had missed none of the interchange. He moved swiftly up the two steps and leaned against the door. It groaned but did not move.

"A good lock.” Kai said. "You want I should push against it a little?"

"Not now. It'll keep. The chances are it means nothing."

They took a different route back to the Imperial compound, enjoying the warmth of the golden afternoon. Andriad's primary glowed with a yellow brilliancy in the sky, coaxing pastel reflections from the sheen of the ceramic buildings. The air, the background murmur of the city, everything combined to produce a feeling of peace that the two men found alien after the mechanized roar of the central worlds.

"Last place you would expect to find bloody murder," Kai said.

"My very thought. But are these people as relaxed as they look? They're supposed to be, I know. Peaceful, law-abiding agrarians, leading lives of unparalleled sweetness and domesticity. All the time— or is there a hidden tendency towards violence?"

"Just like that nice little lady boardinghouse keeper on Westerix IV," Kai reminisced. "The one who killed seventy-four lodgers before we caught up with her. What a collection of luggage she had in that storeroom. . I"

"Don't make the mistake of assuming similarity just because of superficial resemblance. Many planets — like Andriad here — were cut off from mainstream galactic culture for centuries. They developed trends, characteristics, personality quirks that we know nothing about. That we have to know about if we are working on a case."

"How about some original research?" Kai asked. "In here." He jerked his thumb at an outdoor restaurant, with shaded tables around a gently splashing fountain. "I'm dehydrated."

The Andriad beer was chilled and excellent, served in cold ceramic mugs. Kai sat opposite Petion at the table — no need to keep up the master-and-servant pretense here where they were unknown — and drained his beer almost at a swallow. He banged for more and rumbled deep in his chest as the waiter shambled slowly to fetch it. Sipping slowly at the beer he looked around the garden.

"Have the place practically to ourselves," he said. "The kitchen must be open, I can smell it. Let's try the local food. That army chow we had for breakfast is still sitting in my stomach, unchanged and undigested."

"Order if you like," Petion said, looking through the carved wood screen at the slow traffic of the street outside. "I doubt if you will like it, though. In case you didn't read all of the guidebook, the An-driadans are strict vegetarians."

"No steaks!" Kai groaned. "If I wasn't starving I wouldn't consider touching their slop. Order up — I'm game if you are."