The executive nodded.
Channing gestured toward the payment voucher.
"You said it was expensive. Is there enough there to cover it?"
Folan looked curiously at him. "Yes, more than enough."
He waited to hear what the big man would say next.
Channing licked dry lips. A terrible doubt assailed him. Maybe Aln Muh had been metamorphosed too. Maybe she had returned to her former self—whatever that may have been—while he sat here.
He looked down at the big, freckled hands resting on his knees. They were trembling and his palms felt moist. Without looking up, he asked, "Is the period of metamorphosis, always for a term of five years?"
"Invariably. No other term is possible in the present state of our knowledge of the technique—except permanency."
A great sigh escaped Channing. That was all right, then. Aln Muh was genuinely a Jube. The agent had told him about her—mentioned her by name, he remembered now—had said that she was upklin farming on the neighboring planet. If she had been metamorphosed, she would have been taken from him more than a year ago.
He tossed his cap on the table decisively and stood up.