Unger was standing erect. His 300 pounds radiated anger, rage, hate.
"Dreamer, he had a thing which the humans call a camera or a recorder." The speaker, an elderly Venusian, was outraged. He jerked a knife from its scabbard. "Dreamer, allow me the privilege of slitting his throat!" He held the knife high, awaiting only the signal to plunge it into Martin's neck.
A fierce throb of anger seemed to flow through the Room of the Dreaming.
"All things in their time," Unger said. "Do you hold your knife for now."
The fingers of the Venusian trembled as he slipped the knife back into its scabbard.
"Dreamer, I obey. But remember, when the time comes, the privilege is mine. I spoke first!" Hot anger sounded in the Venusian's voice.
"It will be remembered, Taldero," Unger said. He lifted his gaze. "Bring me this camera, this thing that the human was using."
A Venusian carried the camera down the steps and handed it to Unger. While the Venusians had never denied humans entry to the dreaming rooms, any kind of a camera or other recording device had always been strictly forbidden. Neither argument, persuasion nor offers of payment had ever moved a Dreamer to permit the recording of a dream performance. Under his breath, Johnson cursed. The recorder was evidence that could not be denied. "The fool!" Johnson cursed.
Unger took the device and examined it.
"Hmmmm." His eyes sought Martin. "This is not only a camera, it is a very complex and compact recording device designed to make a permanent record of the sights, sounds, and many of the other vibratory frequencies present in this room."