"You prattle long, southerner." Kahl's eyelids lowered suspiciously. He picked up a silver knife and began paring his nails, scattering the shavings suggestively in Sam's direction. "Perhaps you do not want to see me king?"
"There is none so deserving of the honor as you," said Sam. "But while you laugh at the utter childishness of my ideas, please remember that you insisted...."
The Ehrlan delegate to the Central Worlds Conference was well past the entrance to the Park when the pudgy little man caught up with him, sides heaving from the unaccustomed strain of running.
"Citizen Lund!" he cried, panting. "Please wait!"
Lund turned and eyed the little man suspiciously. The fellow was a stranger, and therefore automatically under suspicion. "Yes?"
"A moment of your valuable time, Citizen. Please? I assure you, you have nothing to fear from me. I am not a Yanoian." The name spattered out acidly.
"Indeed?" said Lund. "And just who, then, are you?" There was a vague sensation of familiarity troubling the back of his mind. The omnipresent watchdog in his subconscious pounced instantly on the feeling, magnifying it, turning it inside out and shaking it around, but drawing no satisfaction from the act.
"A friend, Citizen. You must believe that. I can't explain further right now—time is too precious." He grabbed Lund's arm and started tugging him back towards the Park entrance. "Please? I beg you, come."
"Oh—very well." He gave in ungraciously, following the man until they were just inside the Park. Then Lund stopped, digging his heels into the gravel of the walk. The man looked back at him.