"Here!" ejaculated the doctor. "Look at this!"
Curiosity dragged his eyes back. The doctor had rolled the body over, turned back the lapel of the dark gray business suit. Norman saw a small green disk pinned to the underside of the lapel. It was about the size of a dime and died out to represent one of Earth's hemispheres. Three letters in raised silver stood out on the green surface. "T.I.S." he made out.
"An agent of the Terrestial Intelligence Service," breathed Norman.
The doctor rose, drew a handkerchief, wiped his hands. He was a tall man, almost as tall as Norman, with gray hair. His brown eyes sought the young man's. "He must have been working on the terror."
Norman nodded, thought that it didn't require any brilliant deduction to guess that. Ninety percent of the T.I.S. force was trying to solve it. The entire resources of the Empire were being drawn upon to uncover the solution. Vital trade was at a standstill, and last week the Nebulae, a crack luxury liner, had disappeared between Earth and Mars with the Martian ambassador aboard. The incident had very nearly severed diplomatic relations between the two worlds.
The doctor bit his lip, frowned, "I wish the Captain would get here," he said. He glanced anxiously at the gaping crowd, discovered the blue-eyed, black-haired girl by Norman's side.
"Jennifer!" the doctor exclaimed.
"Hello, Doctor Pequod. I didn't want to interrupt your examination."
The doctor's frown deepened. "Jennifer, what's your father thinking to let you travel at a time like this? He should realize it's dangerous."
"He doesn't know," replied Jennifer simply. "Doctor, this is Mr. Saint Clair. He's going to lecture in the Ganymede Seminar."