Stan lowered himself to the padded seat, then leaned back. It was one of those deep armchairs which invite relaxation.
The official touched a button, then leaned forward.
"Tell me, Stanley," he said gently, "what were you doing in the Federation Building a few minutes ago?"
Stan tried to lift a hand in a casual gesture, but it seemed stuck to the chair. He exerted more force, then twisted his body. But his arms and legs refused to move away from the upholstery. Mauson smiled.
"Just a little precaution, Stanley. A gravito unit, you see. It may be unnecessary, but you do have a reputation for a certain—shall we say, competence. Although you have never demonstrated your abilities here, I see no reason for taking foolish chances." His smile faded.
"Now, suppose you tell me all about that visit you made to the Federation Building."
Stan forced himself to relax. Have to be careful, he thought. He forced a grin to his face.
"Lunch," he said casually. "The Interstellar Room has a reputation all over Talburg, you know." He laughed easily.
"Truth is, I got sort of homesick. Got a sudden urge to have a good dish of delsau. It's a sort of preserve we really enjoy at home."
"Now, now." Mauson closed his eyes. "Try again. You should be able to do better than that." He tapped at some notes.