"That's all they'd get. Where's the warm, moist climate to germinate in? Where's the parasitical Rhns to cultivate their soil? The Rhns couldn't exist without their Gleees and the Gleees can't exist without—never mind. The only place perfume trees can grow is on Odoria and that's why the perfume is worth two thousand dollars an ounce."
"I have never heard of anything," I informed him, "that spelled 'Uncle Isadore' so exactly. He always said, 'If it can't be done, I can do it.' Well, there's only one way to find out. Surely there's something on the ship I can wear."
"You mean you're going out into that frozen inkpot after that idiotic bird?"
"That's exactly what I mean."
"For Pete's sake! You're as brainless as the bird is!" But I think, for all his attitude, he was curious, too.
He began to spray me with something. "Close your eyes and mouth. If you don't wash this off with soap and water in twenty-four hours, you'll die. But it sure keeps in the body heat."
I stuck the book in my pocket for good luck, and Rene handed me a gun, some lunch packages, an antibiotic kit and a water purification kit.
"All right," I said, pocketing them, "but it can't be far. Uncle Izzy wouldn't have gone more than a day's journey."
"Then why haven't we smelled the perfume? And why would he have gone through all this rigmarole when he must have known you'd search that far?"