The crowds claiming him as the hero of the hour, screaming for the sight of him. Then the meeting with Loris—Loris of the silver hair, the long slim body which gleamed like pearl, the husky voice.
It had been a struggle to get the Old Men to grant them permission to mate, for Loris was a Venusian and not at all the proper sort of mate for a Warrior. But with the success of Gilkite, there might be no more need for Warriors—so permission was granted. And now Loris was dead.
Once more Ool was summoned before the committee.
"The committee agrees," said the Oldest Man, "that you could not have been responsible for the death of your mate."
"The Gilkite—" Ool began.
"Only Gilk knows positively what to expect from it, and he cannot be found. However, our scientists have given you every known test. And believe me, Captain, if there were the slightest suspicion in the minds of any one of them, the order would have been given for your immediate destruction. We would take no chances on your being a carrier of death rays."
"And Loris?"
"You will remember that the committee opposed this mating. Although Loris' ancestors—like those of all of us—were Terrans, the generations had adapted themselves to life on Venus. We do not know what changes have taken place; how they will be affected by situations which are normal to us."
Ool stood silent. In his own mind, that did not answer the question of what had happened to Loris, or what had gone on during the two weeks.
"Unfortunately," the Oldest Man went on smoothly, as if answering his thoughts, "we have no way of telling what did happen. There was a flaw in the communications system of your ship. Shortly after you took off the Security Screen went blank."