IX
It was deep twilight when the groundcar slid to a halt on its cushion of compressed air before the Kerak Embassy.
“I still think it’s a mistake to go in there,” Hector said. “I mean, you could’ve called him on the tri-di just as well, couldn’t you?”
Leoh shook his head. “Never give an agency of any government the opportunity to say ‘hold the line a moment’ and then huddle together to consider what to do with you. Nineteen times out of twenty, they’ll end by passing your request up to the next higher echelon, and you’ll be left waiting for weeks.”
“Still,” Hector insisted, “you’re simply stepping into enemy territory. It’s a chance you shouldn’t take.”
“They wouldn’t dare touch us.”
Hector did not reply, but he looked unconvinced.
“Look,” Leoh said, “there are only two men alive who can shed light on this matter. One of them is Dulaq, and his mind is closed to us for an indefinite time. Odal is the only other one who knows what happened.”
Hector shook his head skeptically. Leoh shrugged, and opened the door of the groundcar. Hector had no choice but to get out and follow him as he walked up the pathway to the main entrance of the Embassy. The building stood gaunt and gray in the dusk, surrounded by a precisely-clipped hedge. The entrance was flanked by a pair of tall evergreen trees.
Leoh and Hector were met just inside the entrance by a female receptionist. She looked just a trifle disheveled—as though she had been rushed to the desk at a moment’s notice. They asked for Odal, were ushered into a sitting room, and within a few minutes—to Hector’s surprise—were informed by the girl that Major Odal would be with them shortly.