«That's a big contract.»

«But they never made a tenth star. They were lucky to get what they did. With their ship wrecked, they're trapped here. Lloobee and your friend should be arriving any minute.

«And Bellamy's death should satisfy Kdatlyno honor.»

«Mm hm.» She nodded, happy, relaxed. What an actress she could have been! How nice it would have been to play along …

«I didn't kill him deliberately,» I said.

«You told me.»

«That leaves us only one loose end.»

She looked up over the snifter. «What's that?»

«Persuading Emil to leave you out of it.»

She dropped the snifter. It hit the indoor grass rug and rolled under the coffee table while Margo stared at me as at a stranger. Finally she said, «You're hard to read. How long have you known?»

«Practically since your friends took Lloobee. But we weren't sure until we knew Bellamy really had him. You'd lied about his ship.»

«I see.» Her voice was flat, and the sparkle in her eyes was a long forgotten thing. «Emil Home knows. Who else?»

«Just me. And Emil owes me one. Two, really.»

«Well,» she said. «Well.» And she went to pick up the snifter. Right then, the rest of it fell into place.

«You're old.»

«You're hard to fool, Bey.»

«I've never seen you move like that before. It's funny; I can tell a man's age within a few decades, but I can't tell a woman's. Why don't you move like that all the time?»

She laughed. «And have everyone know I'm a crone? Not likely. So I hesitate when I move, and I knock against things occasionally, and catch my heel on rugs … Every woman learns to do that, usually long after she's learned not to. Too much poise is a giveaway.» She stood with her feet apart, hands on her hips, challenging. Now her poise was tremendous, a shocking, glowing dignity. Perhaps she had been an actress, so long ago that her most devoted admirers had died or forgotten her. «So I'm old. Well?»

«Well, now I know why you joined the kidnappers. You and Bellamy and the rest; you all think alike. No persuasion needed.»

She shook her head in mock sadness. «How you simplify. Do you really think that everyone over two hundred and fifty is identical under the skull?

«Piet Lindstrom disliked the idea from the beginning, but he needed the money. He's been off boosterspice for years. Warren's loved hunting all his life. He hadn't hunted a civilized animal since the kzinti wars. Tanya was in love with Larch. She'll probably try to kill you.»

«And you?»

«Larch would have gone ahead without me. Anything could have happened. So I saw to it that I was flying Lloobee's ship, and I declared myself in.»

She was so damn vivid. I'd thought she was beautiful before, but now, with the little-girl mannerisms gone, she glowed.

I thought of the brandy.

«You loved him, too,» I said.

«I'm his mother.»

That jolted me to my toes. «The brandy,» I said. «What was in the brandy?»

«Something I developed long ago. Hormones, hypnotics … a love potion. You're going to love me. Two years from now I'll abandon you like an empty beer bulb. You won't be able to live without me.» Her smile was cruel and cold. «A fitting revenge.»

«Finagle help me!» I hadn't drunk the brandy, of course, but what the hell … Then it penetrated. Two years. «You know about Sharrol?»

«Yes.»

«I didn't drink the brandy.»

«There's nothing in it but alcohol.»

We grinned at each other across the length of the couch. Then the ghost was between us, and I said, «What about Bellamy?»

«Larch took his chances. He knew what he was doing.»

«I can't understand that.» I couldn't understand why she didn't hate me. Worse, all my questions were sure to be the wrong ones. I picked one that might be right and asked, «What was he doing?»

«Dying. He'd run out of things to do. He'd have taken greater and greater chances until one of them killed him. One day I'll reach the same point. Maybe I'll know it in time.»

«What will you do then?»

«Don't ask me,» she said with finality. I never did again.

«And what will you do now?»

«I have an idea,» she said carefully, watching me. «Sharrol Janss is bearing children on Earth for you to raise. I can't have children myself. My ovaries have long since run out of ova. But is there any reason why we shouldn't spend two years together?»

«I can't think of any. But what would you get out of it?»

«I've never known a crashlander.»

«And you're curious.»

«Yes. Don't be offended.»

«I'm not. Your flattery has turned my head.» After all, there were two years to fill, and Margo was lovely.

I was alone on Jinx two years later, waiting for the next ship to Earth. As it turned out, Lloobee's latest works were there, too, on loan to the Institute of Knowledge. To the Institute I went, to see what my protégée had produced.

Seeing them was a shock.

That was the first shock: that they should make sense when seen. Touch sculpture is to be felt: it has no meaning otherwise. But these were busts and statuettes. Someone had even advised Lloobee on color.

I looked closer.

First: a group of human statuettes, some seated, some standing, all staring with great intensity at a flat pane of clear glass.

Second: a pair of heads. Human, humane, handsome, noble as all hell, but child's play to recognize nonetheless. I touched them, and they felt like warm human faces. My face and Emil's.

Third and last: a group of four, a woman and three men. They showed a definite kinship with the ape and a second admixture of what must have been demon blood. Yet they were quite recognizable. Three felt like human faces, though somehow repellent. But the fourth felt horribly dead.

The kidnappers had neglected to include Lloobee in their contract. And Lloobee has been talking to newsmen, telling them all about how his latest works had come to be.

GHOST: FIVE

«Can I ghost that story for you?» Ander asked. «Might be money in it.»

«Old news. Everyone's seen Lloobee's version,» I said, thinking that my story, even edited, could call too much attention to Margo. Lloobee hadn't known of Margo's involvement in the kidnapping, and I hadn't told Ander. I watched him, wondering if he knew.

«I've never turned on to a … mature woman,» he said. «What's it like? Why did you break up?»

I shrugged. «It was supposed to be temporary. It stayed that way … didn't have to, just did. Ander, it boggles me a little, too, Margo contracting for a two-year date the way I used to angle for a hot weekend. Aliens scare you; do you ever worry about elderly humans?»

«No.»

«They've learned too much. They don't like change. If they could stop civilization in its tracks, they would.»

He didn't exactly think that over; he disliked the taste, so he spit it out. «I always figure, if you can't lick 'em, join 'em. So I've decided to get older. Beowulf, General Products gave you a number —»

«I take it as being for my use only.»

His eyes narrowed, but he let it slide. «But you could use it if we needed to know something.»

«I might ask a properly phrased question. Ander Smittarasheed, I am out of the aliens business.»

Again he let it slide. «After Margo, where?»

«Earth. I had a hell of a time getting back.»

«Did you go back for Sharrol Janss?»

I stared. «Of course, for Sharrol and the children.»

«Carlos Wu's children!»

I stood up, knowing it was a mistake, and so what? «I'm leaving. If you want to apologize, my phone is —»

«Beowulf Shaeffer, I just can't see you losing your head over a woman.»

I lost my breath. It was as if he'd punched me in the belly. I sat down, but my vision was still graying. Ander watched in amazement. When my eyes would focus again, he asked, «What was that about?»