At first Ronny leaned forward with quick interest. Perhaps the cruiser's skipper had a lead. But, no, he sank back into his chair. That name was strictly a Section G pseudonym. No one used it outside the department, and he'd already said too much by using the term at all.
Ronny said idly, “Probably two different people. I think I'll go on back and see how Tog is doing.”
Tog was at her communicator when he entered the tiny ship's lounge. Ronny could see in the brilliant little screen of the compact device, the grinning face of Sid Jakes. Tog looked up at Ronny and smiled, then clicked the device off.
“What's new?” Ronny said.
She moved graceful shoulders. “I just called Supervisor Jakes. Evidently there's complete confusion on New Delos. Mobs are storming the temples. In the capital the priests tried to present a new God-King and he was laughed out of town.”
Ronny snorted cynically. “Sounds good to me. The more I read about New Delos and its God-King and his [pg 035] priesthood, the more I think the best thing that ever happened to the planet was this showing them up.”
Tog looked at him, the sides of her mouth tucking down as usual when she was going to contradict something he said. “It sounds bad to me,” she said. “Tommy Paine's work is done. He'll be off to some other place and we won't get there in time to snare him.”
Ronny considered that. It was probably true. “I wonder,” he said slowly, “if it's possible for us to get a list of all ships that have blasted off since the assassination, all ships and their destination from New Delos.”
The idea grew in him. “Look! It's possible that a dictatorial government such as theirs would immediately quarantine every spaceport on the planet.”