"I mean in fighting in te first place," said Urushkidan. "I hear it started over a female. Why don't you lower animals habe a regular rutting season as we do on Uttu? Ten you could spend time tinking of someting else too, someting constructive."
"Well—" Ray couldn't suppress a wry smile, "those are constructive thoughts, of a sort. But what happened to Dyann?"
"Oh, tey questioned her, found she couldn't read, and let her go. But tey won't let her see you."
"I suppose Earth would raise more of a stink over her being arrested than it's worth to the Jovians. But what's her literacy got to do with it?"
"Te colonel's papers, you idiot. Tey are bery secret. Doubtless tey are information about Eart's defenses, obtained by his spies and to be brought home by him in person."
"But I didn't read them either!"
"You saw tem. Tey are implanted in your subconscious memories and a hypnotreatment could extract tem. An illiterate like Dyann lacks te word-gestalts, she would not remember eben subconsciously, but you—Well, tat is luck. Maybe Eart can sabe you."
"Oh, no!" Ray clutched his head. "They won't bother. They don't give a damn. I'm wanted back there, and old Vanbrugh will be only too pleased to see me get the works."
"Banbrugh—te Nort American Councillor?"
"Uh-huh." Ray leaned gloomily against the door. "I was just a plain ordinary engineer till Uncle Hosmer left me a million credits. Damn him, I hope he fries in hell."