My throat was almost closed. My voice grated and I had trouble talking. “Primary test. Blood type?”

  “Testing. 0 positive, Rh negative.”

  I didn’t hear the rest-nor did it matter. Angelina was a sturdy type B-and Rh positive. I relaxed, but only so slightly.

  In a very few minutes two important facts were made clear. Other than the drops of blood, there were no visible human remains or traces of anyone living or dead. There was the ruined hail and next t9 it the burnt and crushed room that had held large amounts of electronic equipment. All of it now apparently-and deliberately-destroyed beyond any possibility of recognition.

  But where was Angelina?

  I waited until the ruined building had been examined and reexamined. Nothing new was discovered and I was just wasting my time at the site. The police had vetted every spacer that had left the planet since the explosion and would keep on doing so.

  Neither Angelina-nor even anyone who resembled her in the slightest-had been recorded as being aboard any of them. There was nothing I could do here.

  I drove slowly home, obeying all traffic regulations. Stopping for pedestrians and waving them on. I rolled through the remains of the garage door and parked the bike. Went straight to the bar where I threw out the flat drink sitting there and prepared a small but stiff replacement before I dug into the E-mail printouts. The twins were on the way. Both were offplanet so it would be a few days at least before they arrived. They did not go into details but I knew that they were now buying, cajoling, bribing-perhaps stealing-the fastest means of transportation in the known universe. They would be here. Our little clan may have rejected the outside worlds and their values-but this made our own cohesion that much stronger.

  But now we had to wait for plodding technology to sift, examine and assess the ruins of the Temple of Eternal Truth-and present a coherent picture of what had happened there. There was nothing I could do until I got the police report. I tried to contact Rowena in the hospital but was given the brush-off. Querying her more would have to wait until she had recovered a bit. Lussuoso was rich and technically efficient and would do the search-and-analyze job as well as-or better than-any other planet we had visited. I hated this place but gave it all credit for technical competence. My mind kept trying to numerate all the terrible possibilities of Angelina’s disappearance….

  Don’t dwell on it, Jim, I told myself firmly. You have chosen to lead what others might consider a strange and possibly criminal life. I began to wish I had stayed with crookery and away from the Special Corps. I was always uneasy on the right side of the law. Even more I regretted coming here. Yet it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

  This was a paradise planet and unbelievably expensive. To move here I had had to tap into bank accounts untouched for years. I even had to draw in some long-overdue debts and that had not been easy to do. I mean not easy in the sense of heavy weapons and a number of people in the hospital before the accounts were closed. A life of crime is not always profitable-particularly when I had some unwelcome assignments from the Special Corps. Certainly my saving the universe had been exciting, but not money-making in the slightest. The same thing happened when I ran for president of Paraiso Aqui. Good fun, but again no money involved. So between these kinds of legal jobs, Angelina and I had done a number of other jobs that filled our coffers while depleting those of others. Enough had been stored away for a rainy day that had proved to be a sunny one here. It had all been well worth it since Angelina was happier here than she bad ever been before. I even forgot how much I hated the place when she smiled and kissed me. It had all started simply enough.

  “Have you ever heard of Lussuoso?” she had asked.

  “A new drink-or something you rub onto the skin?”

  “Don’t always play the fool, Jim diGriz. I mean every day there is something about it in the news-“

  “Vicarious thrills and sheer jealousy. There isn’t one person in a trillion who could even afford a day’s visit there.”

  “We could. I’m sure.”

  “Of course-“

  Of course. Famous Last Words. Springing to my lips engendered by relaxation and mental sloth. By hindsight it was obvious that every word of that simple conversation was planned and orchestrated by my dearest. She was a woman who, when she knew what she wanted done, got it done.

  Lussuoso. Famous in myth and legend and galactic soap operas. A paradise planet. Populated only by the very, very rich and those who were richer. I had been intrigued by this phenomenon at first and had done a bit of research. I was in an exotic enough income bracket to quickly discover why it was so attractive,

  It was the galactic center for rejuvenation treatments. These were so hideously expensive that you had to be a millionaire to even see their price list. The treatments were painless but time-consuming. Depending upon the degree of customer decay this could take years. Since a clinic would be a bore, and there was no shortage of money in the project, an entire planet had been terraformed into a holiday world. Luxury villas rivaled each other in exuberance. Operas, theaters and entertainments of all kinds abounded. All the sports from deep-sea diving and fishing to mountain climbing and hunting were there for the taking. But hidden away from all this consumptive capitalism were the clinics and surgeries where the rich got younger and, if possible, poorer. This was the taboo subject and never mentioned-but was the real reason why the planet existed in the first place.

  I had discovered all this and had instantly forgotten it. Angelina had not. I knew that my fate was sealed, my goose well-cooked, served and carved, when she stopped in front of the hall mirror one day just before we left for dinner. She patted her immaculately groomed hair as women are wont to do-then leaned closer. Touching the corner of one eye with a delicate fingertip.

  “Jim-is that a line, right here?”

  “Of course not. Just the way the light is falling.”

  Even as I spoke these polite, truthful and simple words my thoughts were briskly whirring forwards. Years of happy marriage had taught me one important fact-if not a lot of important facts. Women speak with many levels of meaning. As simple a question as Are you hungry? can mean I am hungry. Or have you forgotten we have a dinner appointment? Or I’m not hungry but I’m sure you will be bothering me about lunch soon. Or any other of countless convoluted interpretations. So a possible line in the corner of an eye, following soon after a simple query about Lussuoso and the chance appearance of a gilt brochure on the end table could mean only thing. I smiled.

  “I am beginning to feel that this world has worn out its welcome and is starting to bore more than a little. Have you ever thought of passing a spell on, I don’t know, some grander and more exciting planet?”

  She whirled about and kissed me enthusiastically. “Jim-you must be a mind reader! What do you think about…”

  I really didn’t have much to think about. Other than remembering long-forgotten bank accounts.

  But it had been well worth it. For awhile. Angelina absented herself from time to time-but we never discussed the rejuvenation treatments. I am forced to admit that, after noting my touches of gray hair, as well as a slight tendency to be short of breath after serious exercise, I was not that adverse to a medical session or two myself. After all I was paying for it. And Lussuoso was as jolly and entertaining as the brochures had said. Our house was lovely and our friends lovelier still. I don’t know how beautiful these people had been before they had become beautiful people-but they were sure good to look at now. Neither age shall wither nor time detract. They used to say that money couldn’t buy everything, but this cliche had long been extinct. On Lussuoso they were all young, handsome and rich. Or rather rich first-therefore young and handsome.

  It did not take me long to discover that they were also boring beyond belief.

  Making a lot of money seems to produce people who care only about making money.

  Now I am not a snob-far from it. My circle of friends and acquaintances contains weird and wonderful examples from all walks of life. Conmen and connoisseurs. Forgers and foresters, police and politicians, scientists and psalm singers. All of them entertaining and good company in a variety of strange and interesting ways.

  Yet after a month on Lussuoso I was ready for anything but more of Lussuoso. Suicide perhaps, or back into the army again, maybe swimming in a lake of sulfuric acid; any of these would be preferable.

  But I bided my time and increased my drinking for two reasons. Firstly I had paid a satellite-sized bundle for the medical treatments and I was going to get my money’s worth. Secondly, and more importantly, Angelina was having an incredibly good time. Our lifestyle had previously prevented her from having female acquaintances or close lady friends. Her early and murderous life, before the psych treatments that had turned her into a more civilized, though still criminal, person, was far in the past and hopefully forgotten. We never discussed those early years when I-for a rare change-was on the side of law enforcement. And she was a criminal on the run. A very nasty criminal indeed and I could not understand how one so beautiful could be so devious and cruel. Until she trusted me, perhaps she loved me even then, and had opened the locket with the secret of her past. Her beauty had been the product of the surgeon’s knife. That had changed her from what she had been to how she looked now. Only her criminal existence had enabled her to pay for the operations. Because of this, and our extra-legal standard of living, we might have had a lonely existence in many ways. We had not led a solitary life, but it had-certainly been a different kind of life from the normal ones led by the other 99.99 percent of mankind.

  Having the twins had been a novel experience for both of us. One that I had not looked forward to with a great deal of enthusiasm. But I had changed, for the better Angelina always said, and she should know. When the boys were growing up we had seen that they had received the best education. We had discussed it a lot and had finally agreed that they could choose the style of, life that most appealed to them. In all fairness, when they were old enough, we had introduced them to some of the more interesting aspects of our lifestyle. I am happy to say that they took to it instantly. All of this kept us busy enough and. since Angelina had never had any close friends, she apparently had never missed the acquaintance of those of the fairer sex. Now she had them in abundance.

  They went out together and did things together. Just what I was never quite sure. But she-and they-did enjoy themselves. She had even mentioned lightly, and oh howl wish I had listened more closely, the Temple of Eternal Truth. She hadn’t seemed terribly interested but had gone there at a friend’s insistence.

  Now this. I sipped long and hard at my drink and resisted a refill.

  “DiGriz here,” I called out at the instant the communicator buzzed.

  “It is Captain Collin, Admiral. We have some more-and very puzzling-infonnation about the Temple of Eternal Truth. Do you think you could come to my office…”

  I was out the door even while he was still speaking.

  Chapter 2

  “WHAT HAVE YOU FOUND OUT?” I asked brusquely as I stamped into Captain Cohn’s office. He was speaking on the phone and he raised his hand signing me to wait.

  “Yes. Thank you. I understand.” He hung up. “That was the hospital. It seems that Mrs. Vinicultura is suffering from post-traumatic amnesia-“

  “She’s forgotten everything that happened?”

  “Precisely. There are techniques that could get access to those memories but their application must wait until she has recovered from the shock.”

  “That’s not why you called me here?”

  “No.” He ran his finger around inside his collar and-if it were possible for an overmuscled police captain to look embarrassed-he looked embarrassed.

  “Here on Lussuoso we pride ourselves on our security and the thoroughness of our records.

  “Which means,” I interrupted, “your security has been penetrated and your records are doubtful?”

  He opened his mouth to rebut me. Then closed it and slumped in his chair. “You’re right. But it has never happened before.”

  “Once is once too often. Tell me about it.”

  “It is this Temple of Eternal Truth. It appears to have been duly registered as a qualified religion. They kept accurate records and reported regularly on their financial position, though of course like all religions they pay no taxes. Everything seemed quite aboveboard. The directors are on record and, most discreetly of course, we know about all of its members.”

  “All about? Would you like to explain that?”

  He looked uncomfortable. “Well, like any civilized planet we practice the galactic constant of complete freedom of religion. You have heard of the Interstellar Freedom of Religion Act?”

  “Vaguely, in school.”

  “The Act is not vague. The history of religion is a history of violence. Only too often religion kills, and we have had enough killing. Therefore no state or planet can have an official religion. Neither can a state or planet make any laws controlling religion. Freedom of worship and assembly is essential to civilization.”

  “What about nut cults?”

  “I was coming to that. Galactic law requires us not to interfere with any religion and to adhere to that rule sternly. But since the weak and the juvenile require protection so that, always legally and with the utmost caution, we do investigate all religions thoroughly. We make ongoing investigations to assure that religious rights are not violated, that each religion has the freedom to practice in its own way, that minors’ rights are not violated, that parishioners have complete freedom of choice-“

  “What you are trying to say is that you keep tabs on who goes to what church and how often and you know what they are getting up to.”

  “Precisely,” he growled defensively. “The records are secure and can only be accessed at the highest level in case of emergency.”

  “All right. We have an emergency and they have been accessed. Tell me.”

  “Rowena Vinicultura is one of the first members of the Temple. She attends regularly. She brought your wife to exactly four seances or sessions or whatever they call them.”

  “So?”

  He was beginning to look uncomfortable again. “So, as I have explained, our records are detailed and complete. Except, that the leader of the Temple of Eternal Truth, one Master Fanyimadu, is, well…”

  His voice ran down and he stared at his desktop. I finished the sentence for him.

  “Master Fanyimadu does not appear in any entry in any of your records.”

  He nodded without looking up. “We know his place of residence and have documented his attendance at the temple. However to preserve religious freedom we have done no more than that.”

  “No investigations? No cross-reference with Immigration or Criminal Affairs?”

  He shook his head in silence. I glowered. “Let me guess. You don’t know how he came to this planet, or if he is still here-or if he has left. Is that correct?”

  “There has been… a certain failure of communication, an oversight.”

  “Oversight!” I exploded, jumping to my feet and stamping the length of the room and back. “Oversight! Fire and blood and an explosion, a woman in the hospital and my wife vanished-and you call that oversight!”

  “There is no need to lose your temper-“

  “Yes there is!”

  “-we are proceeding with the investigation and have already made some progress.” He ignored my sneer. “The blood found in the temple has been subjected to analysis down to the molecular and subatomic levels. These results have been compared to those of everyone on this planet. We keep complete health and hospital records as you might imagine. Computers are accessing this immense data base at the present moment. When I called you earlier the search had been narrowed to less than twenty possibilities. As we talked I have been following the progress on this readout.” He tapped the screen on the desk. “The exacting comparison has now been reduced to five. No-four. Wait-there are only three now, And two of them are women! And that remaining man is…”

  As he tore the slip from his printout we turned as one and raced for the door.

  “Who?” I shouted as we ran. He read without breaking his stride.

  “Professor Justin Slakey.”

  “Where?”

  “Under sixty seconds’ flight from here.”

  At least he was right about that. The copter was airborne even as we fell through its door. The military must have had the news the instant that the police did because a cover of military jets roared by above us. Even before we began our descent we could see that copcopters were already hitting the ground and unloading troops to surround the house. Rotors roaring we dropped down onto the stone-flagged patio. Cohn had produced a large gun and was a fraction of a second ahead of me as we kicked open the doors.

  The house was empty, the bird flown.

  A suitcase was obviously missing, a gaping hole like a missing tooth from what had been a row of four in the bedroom closet. The garage door gaped open. A commofficer strode in, saluting as he pulled a printout from his chest pack.

  “Gone, sir,” he said. Collin snarled as he grabbed the sheet.

  “Professor J. Slakey, passenger on the stellar liner Star of Serendipity. Departed…” He looked up and his face was grim. “A little over an hour ago.”

  “So they are already in warpdrive and cannot be contacted until they emerge.” I considered the possibilities. “You will of course be in touch with the authorities at their scheduled destination. Which is an operation that might work normally-but this is not a normal situation. I have a strong suspicion that this suspect is ahead of us all of the way. Contacting the ship’s destination will probably do no good at all because the spacer will arrive instead at some unscheduled chartpoint. If you ask me you’ve lost him, Captain. But you can at least tell me who-or what-he is supposed to be.”

  “That is the worst part. He really is Professor Slakey. I started a search as soon as his name appeared. I have just received a report directly from the medical authorities. He is a physicist of interstellar repute who was requested to come here by the Medical Commission, no expense was too great to acquire his services. Something to do with retarded entropy as applied to our hospital work.”