But that was not all the preparation he had done. He had had the horror-story writer sweating for a whole day and a night. One of the reporters had been expelled from the Royal Academy of Art and could write a little poetry.

Madison's own musical background should have been extensive but was not. His mother had planned, when he was eight, that he should have a career as a concert pian­ist. He had been labored over by numerous teachers until he was twelve, at which time the last one, like his predecessors all had, found Madison playing ragtime when he should have been memorizing a concerto of an austere classic nature. The man had whipped him soundly. His mother wouldn't stand for that, the man had been fired out of hand and Madison had finished his musical career with a sore bottom. He only hoped he could remember enough not to make some awful, gauche slip. He would be talking to a very accomplished musician. Details, in such an extensive caper as this, were everything.

He had gotten his appointment very smoothly. A house clerk had answered her viewer-phone at her home in Pausch Hills. Madison had told him that he had a message from Hightee's brother, Jettero Heller.

The clerk had relayed the fact and a background voice-Hightee's-had said, "Does he know where Jettero is? I'd surely love to find out."

Madison knew at once that Hightee did not know.

He went at once, smoothly, into the second phase of his plan to locate Heller-Wister for Lombar, after which he would get into his image-building.

"Tell your mistress I can't give her the message over the phone: her brother ordered me to give it personally. I am an Apparatus officer on detached duty to Home-view. My name is J. Walter Madison."

He promptly got his appointment for one o'clock, and here he was, flying in through a warm sun to land on the rooftop estate of Hightee Heller.

He was impressed! The estate looked like it comprised several acres that rested high in the air, crowning an elegant building. One could see for miles and miles from such an aerie; the view was not even blocked by neighboring buildings and looked down on other lovely estates. A place for the angels, even unto a wisp of wandering cloud! At least that was what Flick was crooning as he put the Model 99 down on the roof target. He was very disappointed to see a house clerk in black awaiting them instead of Hightee.

"The lady is expecting you," the clerk said. "She is in the summerhouse. I will escort you."

Madison sternly told Flick to stay by the car and fol­lowed the black-suited man down a curving path. The first thing that struck Madison was that the trees were full of songbirds trilling their hearts out in melodies and harmonies.

"However do you keep the birds in?" he asked the clerk.

At that moment two birds of gorgeous plumage swept down and inspected the briefcase Madison was carrying and then fluttered accusingly in front of his face.

"It's not a matter of keeping them IN," said the clerk. "It's a matter of never being able to drive them away. They sometimes hear the music from the oratory and they come for miles around to sing with Hightee. And they always fly with her when she takes her walks."

What struck Madison was the total absence of guards. This clerk didn't even have a telltale bulge in his close-fitting black coat. They hadn't even asked for an identoplate on landing, or now. He could be anybody, even an assassin. Nobody had even asked to look in his briefcase. Very, very lax. And it might be very useful.

He had to make sure. "Don't you have guards and security and things?" he asked. "It makes me nervous for her."

The clerk snorted. "Lady Hightee has fifteen billion fans who would tear anyone to pieces if she was hurt. And who would touch the sister of the hero of the Fleet, Jettero Heller? Only a madman would so much as frown at Lady Hightee, and it is very plain you are not one of those."

So there was no security, Madison filed away.

They came to the summerhouse, a grill of golden lattices through which the summer sun splashed in gentle patterns.

She had been working at a table with a sheet of music, probably memorizing a lyric. She came forward to the door, hand outstretched in welcome.

Madison flinched. He had never in his life seen such a beautiful woman. She was wearing a casual artist's smock of shimmering green. Her hair was the color of Heller's but it was fluffed into a glowing halo. Her eyes were an electric blue that made you feel very warm. The presence of her was an aura that seemed to make the day go brighter.

Madison came out of his shock, took the hand, bent over it to kiss it but the touch of her on his palm almost paralyzed him. Oh, yes, indeed, this was Hightee Heller. Even the three dimensions of Homeview screens couldn't begin to do her justice. For an instant he thought he was going to kneel despite himself.

Still bent over the golden fingernails, he summoned up his most engaging and ingenuous smile. He was very glad he had practiced it. The presence of this woman had almost knocked him flat and gawping. In fact, for the barest, fleeting instant, out of pure admiration for her, he had qualms at going forward with his plans. But he recovered quickly.

She was graciously waving him to a seat as she resumed her own swinging chair. As soon as she had sat down, Madison perched himself on the edge of the indicated armchair. He wished those patches of sunlight didn't make her glow. It made it difficult to proceed.

But Madison held on to his smile. "Forgive me for seeming so much at home, but Jettero has spoken of you to me so often, I feel that I know you."

She smiled. "Oh, Jettero and I have always been close. He is such a wonderful person."

"One of the finest fellows that ever lived," said Madison.

"Probably the finest and most honorable man alive," said Hightee.

"A prince among princes," said Madison. "I bless the day when he honored me with his friendship."

"You know him well, then?" said Hightee.

"Oh, intimately," said Madison. "It often makes me feel humble when he tells me how much he trusts me. How heartening it is, when all else is black, to know that one has such a dear friend as Jettero. I don't know what I would do without him."

"I have always felt," said Hightee, "how fortunate I was to have a brother like that."

"And such a future!" said Madison.

"There isn't a young officer in the Fleet that doesn't try to emulate him," said Hightee.

"Oh, he will rise to the top," said Madison. "Inevitable success."

"His superiors swear by him," said Hightee.

"I am sure he will achieve universal renown," said Madison. "In fact, he deserves everything that can be done for him."

"Indeed he does," said Hightee. "Ever since I was a little girl, I've felt more confident in life knowing he was there. I've always felt I was one of the luckiest girls alive to be his sister."

"And I have felt I was one of the luckiest fellows alive to be his friend," said Madison.

"You really have a message from him?" said High-tee, eagerly.

"It's more interesting than just that," said Madison. "In fact, he made me swear on my honor that I would not fail to see you personally and give you this present from him."

He opened up his briefcase and removed a large jewelry box and said, "From your brother with his love." And he handed it to her with a bow.

She opened it. The sunlight hit it and it hit back, breaking the light into a thousand colored pieces. Sitting in its new setting, nestled into the gold net cap, the jewel quite took her breath away. She had never seen anything like it: an emerald inside a perfect diamond.

She put it on and the jewel in the center of her forehead drove the sunlight frantic in the summerhouse. She took up a small mirror and looked. Then she took it off and gazed at it. When the pulse in her lovely throat slowed down, she gazed at Madison. "Where could he have possibly acquired it? It must have cost ten years' pay!"