Carroll paused instantly, and as he did so, the door opened more, showing both Kingallis and his sister. Kingallis shook his head angrily.
"So you gave him the record," he said flatly.
Rhinegallis was silent. It was obvious to Carroll that there had been accusal and denial previously but that his instant recognition of the alien word had been perfect evidence. Carroll sailed in instantly.
"She's given me nothing," he said sharply. "I just happen to be curious."
Kingallis turned from his sister to face Carroll.
"That is a bald-faced lie," he said.
Carroll's reply was in the alien tongue, a rather harsh alien platitude pertaining to the fact that a guilty man always requires a sucker to account for his own mistakes, whereas an honest man can admit an error.
Kingallis sneered and his eyes became glittery-hard.
"She gave it to you," he said. "This I know." He pointed to the minute temple-electrode—flesh-colored—and the spider-web thin wire that ran to the flat bulge in his coat pocket.
"So?" snapped Carroll. He measured Kingallis deliberately. The alien had a few years to give away, but Carroll had a few pounds to make up the difference. Also Carroll, being slightly older, was more of a competent judge of men.