"Sure thing. Just a second," I started the motor and headed for land.
Me. Carol Engelholtz. A liaison between two planets. I never felt so excited in my life. Why, it was more exciting than hooking a sailfish.
"There's my lodge," I shouted, pointing at the bluff just over a rise.
"You stay there alone?" Hrodes asked.
"I have a cook and a housekeeper. But they won't bother you. You'll stay in the tub in my bathroom while I go fetch somebody. But who do I go fetch?"
"Anyone with responsibility. I want to get this over with."
"Yes, yes, I know. Your mission." I docked the launch, soaked towels, wrapped them around Hrodes, carried him—or she—to my car, and in fifteen minutes I was home.
I left Hrodes in the tub and went back to the car. Miami was too far off. There was a small town called Chesterville a few miles away. It seemed the only place to go.
"There ain't no F.B.I. branch here," a deputy behind a battered desk said. He was about sixty, with a skinny neck that was covered with half dollar size blotches. "Better try Miami. Why? What's the matter? Find some subversives? A lot of subversives in Florida."