"Get hold of the Commissioner. Tell him we've caught the Renegade." He chuckled amiably. "That should make him sit up. Yes sir. Tell him to get right out here, though, because the Renegade's men are trying to rescue him."
A girl's features, horsefaced, blonde, formed on the screen. "Venusport Security Patrol," she said.
"The Commissioner," said Llana. "This is the Bemmelman plantation calling."
The screen blanked out as the horsefaced girl switched to the Commissioner's office. In a moment, the fat face and shoulders of the Commissioner blotted out half the screen. His eyes were puffy. His jowls sagged. He looked as if he were suffering from a hangover.
"Well?" he asked.
"We've captured the Renegade."
"What?" His eyes snapped open.
"We've got the Renegade here at the plantation. But hurry! His men are trying to rescue him. Please hurry!"
"I'm on my way!"
The Commissioner leaped out of vision forgetting to shut off the telecast. They could hear his bull-like voice roaring orders. Llana snapped off the machine, turned indifferently to the windows.