Dumarest leaned back in the chair, waiting. After a while he said, "Is something wrong?"
"No." She looked a little flustered. "It's just that we have to wait our turn. I'll ask again and demand priority."
"The response will be-planet unknown," said Dumarest. "Am I correct?"
"You are." She looked at him from her position by the terminal. "Which means that the world you mention does not exist."
"Because your computer does not hold the information?" He shrugged. "Try again, madam. Ask under 'legends.' Also under the name Terra.' And if you have anything on the Original People it might help."
"Is this a joke?"
"No." He met her eyes. "I came here for help not to make a fool of anyone. I understand that the computers on Harald are the finest in the entire region. I take it they are cross-linked?" He paused, continuing at her nod, "All that remains then is to select the finest service. I was given to understand that this was it. Maybe you're more interested in fancy decoration and prestige-buildings than in actual service."
"You don't have to be insulting."
"I don't have to be anything!" Dumarest surged to his feet. "Certainly I don't have to beg for what I pay for or plead for what you are in business to provide. Now hit those keys and let's find out just how damned good your computers are."
For a long moment she stood, looking at him, her eyes searching his face and then, as if having arrived at a decision, turned to the terminal and sent her blunt fingers over the keys.
He heard the hiss of her indrawn breath as she read the answer flashed on the screen.
"Well?"
"Legend," she said. "It's listed under legend. Earth is a mythical world-"
"Wrong!"
"-one equated with Eden, Avalon, Camelot, El Dorado, Jackpot, Bonanza and many others," she continued, ignoring the interruption. "One of a group of tales possibly devised to entertain children or to point a moral. A fable, a place devoid of hurt, pain or sorrow."
"Wrong again," he said, harshly. "Earth has all of those and more. Try again."
"Terra?"
"Another name for Earth." He waited as she operated the keyboard. "Well?"
"As you say, it is another name for Earth, but I've something from the Original People. You would, no doubt, like to tell me what it is."
He smiled at the acidity of her tone; an expression without genuine humor, but one which helped. There was no point in making her an enemy.
"The Original People are a cult which believe that all men sprang from a single world. I quote-" his voice deepened, held something of the muted thunder of drums, "From terror they fled to find new places on which to expiate their sins. Only when cleansed will the race of Man be again united." As she drew in her breath he said, "End of quote. Good enough?"
"For me, yes. You know what you're talking about and I don't think you are joking. But you realize what you're asking us to do?"
"To find the coordinates of Earth."
"To find a legend. A place which officially doesn't exist. Do you realize what that could mean? Endless checking of cross-references, the hunting down of abstruse notations, the searching of ancient files. Elimination, selection, winnowing, collating, substantiating-it could take years!" She saw his expression. "You disagree?"
"Not with what you say. Such a search would take a long time and there would be no certainty of success. But I don't want you to do that. I merely want to hire the computer to run a comparison check on a stellar spectrogram I have. How much would it cost?"
"We charge by the minute." He pursed his lips as she told him the price. "Are you still interested?"
"How long would it take?"
She said, precisely, "There are over a half billion stars registered in the memory banks. Some elimination is possible, naturally, but even so it will take time. And first the input information must be prepared. You have the data?"
She took the strip of film he handed to her, a copy of the one he had found on Emijar and, holding it, said, "There will be an initial fee of two hundred. This will cover breakdown and isolation of relevant identifying aspects. The material will, naturally, be yours."
"Two hundred decis?"
"Mettres."
Ten times as much-no wonder they had graced the building with expensive carvings. Twice the cost of a Low passage but worth it if he could gain the coordinates.
She said, as if reading his mind, "You realize this is only the initial payment. The fee for computer hire will be extra."
A hundred a minute and he'd thought she'd meant decis.
Now he knew better. Harald, it seemed, was an expensive world in more ways than one.
"Have you any idea how long it could take?"
"The computer can check ten thousand bits every second. Assuming the entire half billion has to be checked it is a matter of simple division. Ten thousand into five hundred million divided by sixty to obtain minutes, multiplied by a hundred comes to-" she paused a moment, frowning, "Say about eighty-three thousand. The average should be half of that, say forty-two thousand. Of course, we could hit the answer within the first second."
"And that would cost only a hundred?"
"No." Gently she shook her head. "For an investigation like this we should require a deposit of ten thousand minimum. That, of course, will buy you a hundred minutes and you could be lucky."
"And if not?"
"Then we'd freeze the program until you had handed us more. It would be best to arrange for a complete run and take a gamble. I could arrange it for forty-five thousand and you would be certain of a complete check. If we run over the half-way mark, of course, we stand to lose."
"How?" He spoke before she could answer. "I know-the extra running time would be for free. Supposing I paid just what would I get?"
"The answer if it is to be found. A complete check of all comparisons made in any case-information which would be valuable in itself. For elimination purposes," she explained. "It is remotely possible that some other computer has information on stars which we lack. The data we would give you could isolate those stars and possibly supply the missing item." For a moment she was silent then, quietly said, "Well?"
If he'd had the money he would have told her to go ahead-what was money when compared to finding Earth? But he didn't have it and nothing like it. The two hundred, yes, but what good would be the initial preparation data?
"Could I leave it for now?"
"Of course." She handed him back the strip of film. Reaching for it their fingers met and she froze at the contact, sensing something of the disappointment which filled him. "Look," she said with sudden generosity. "There is nothing I can do to help you. I work for the company and you must understand why. But there is a man, a hobbyist in a way, and he might be able to do something. I'll give you his name and address." She scribbled on a pad. "Be gentle with him, please. Once we were friends."
Once long ago perhaps, but now he had found another. One which came in convenient containers and held the old, insidious charm. Dumarest stared at the man who opened the door and recognized the traces on face and bearing. Smelt too the sickly odor of the habitual drunk.
"Armand Ramhed?"
"The same. And you?" Armand craned forward, blinking. Tall, his head came level with Dumarest's own but his bulk was only half as much. His skin was creped, mottled, sagging in tiny pouches. His watery eyes were bagged and his throat resembled the scrawny limb of a starved bird. "Who are you, sir?" He blinked again as Dumarest gave his name and that of the woman who had sent him. Now he knew why she had asked him to be gentle.
"Hilda?" Armand smiled with genuine pleasure. "A wonderful woman, sir, and a true friend. Come in. Come in. Anything I can do to help I will do. For her I can do no less."