"Very good, Stephen," he said, re-entering the room. "You show signs of real ingenuity. I'm afraid I underestimated you." He glanced at me with an air of satisfaction.
"More than you think!" the girl Clare exclaimed. "We've got to hurry! He radioed John Gibson at Verlis to return at once! He put the call through before I knew he was on the ship!"
For a long minute my father remained silent, puffing at his eternal Martian eyla studying the greenish clouds of smoke as though the future lay revealed in their swirling tendrils. The girl bit her lip impatiently, glanced nervously toward the door. Taon stood motionless, his broad, ugly face stolid, awaiting orders.
"I must confess," my father said at length, "that matters haven't turned out just as I had expected. I had intended to take the palladium ... and my loving son, here ... aboard the ship, make a quick getaway. Now, thanks to that message to Verlis, I am known to be the person responsible for the ... ah ... robbery, and will be pursued by the I.P. men. Moreover, there is another matter" ... his glance fell upon the leather-bound book he had taken from the safe ... "that has caused me unexpectedly to change my plans. I think it is wiser all around for us to remain here."
"But you can't!" the girl cried. "It's madness! He can have you arrested for murder! My father's...."
I never heard the rest of what she was going to say. The staccato roar of rockets, the grinding of steel brakes biting into ice, drowned out her words. A rocket-sled was screaming to a stop before the building, the flare of its exhausts flickering through the window like terrestrial lightning.
Taon stiffened, his hairy hand seeking the butt of his flame-gun. The girl went whiter still. And I drew a quick sigh of relief for the first time in the past two hours. Only my father betrayed no emotion; he sat there like an image carved from ice, that bitter, mocking smile on his lips.
With a bang the door of the building slammed open. Uncle John, tall, gaunt, bushy-browed, strode into the room, frowning.
"Good evening, John," my father said pleasantly. "We've been missing you. You're all that's needed to complete this family reunion."
"Vance! Then it was true, Stephen's message! You've nerve, coming here!" Uncle John shook his head. "Thief! Murderer! Liar! I suppose I was a fool to let you escape that night. I only did so for the honor of the family and the name of Stephen, here. And so you return to commit another robbery, to make sure your son is known as the son of a space-rat!"