"It will not hold them now," she said, her voice unsteady. "Gion is dead."
His face blanked. She nodded.
"Your reason?" His eyes bored into hers. Only the sibilant gurgle of the river glancing past disturbed the quiet of the ancient dungeon.
"Why did Gion send across the System to wreck the Plutonian?" she replied. "Perhaps to avert suspicion, yes. But I can tell you why. He had to, because the Plutonian would never come to Jupiter. Because the Jewels of Orion were slipping beyond his grasp forever."
"You mean ..." Kurland began, slowly.
"They did not dare. They were exhibited on all the inner worlds, but not on Saturn, nor on Jupiter. They're unstable, crystallized gas from a galaxy a million miles beyond the belt of Orion."
"We handled them," he urged.
"In Terran atmosphere, yes. The Council dare not risk them free in anything less. Let the Cranford elements touch those jewels ..." Her shrug was expressive.
"The jewel boxes were upon his desk when I awoke," he rejoined, tugging thoughtfully at his beard.
"He had not opened them," she replied, positively. "They were his bait, to dull his jackal Heywood's wits, to speed him into carelessness. You saw his impatience to be done, to divide the spoil. He was in haste for his reward."