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Midguard had an apartment in the executive territory of the Viking reservation, a fairly large place with plastic-lined walls instead of the usual painted nickel-iron. Very luxurious for Ceres.

The meal was served with an air of subdued pretension that made everybody a little stiff and uncomfortable, with the possible exception of Jack Ravenhurst, and the definite exception of myself. I just listened politely to the strained courtesy that passed for small talk and waited for the chance I knew would come at this meal.

After the eating was all over, and we were all sitting around with cigarettes going and wine in our glasses, I gave the girl the signal we had agreed upon. She excused herself very prettily and left the room.

After fifteen minutes, I began to look a little worried. The bathroom was only a room away–we were in a dining area, and the bathroom was just off the main bedroom–and it shouldn’t have taken her that long to brush her hair and powder her face.

I casually mentioned it to Colonel Brock, and he smiled a little.

“Don’t worry, Oak; even if she does walk out of this apartment, my men will be following her wherever she goes. I’d have a report within one minute after she left.”

I nodded, apparently satisfied. “I’ve been relying on that,” I said. “Otherwise, I’d have followed her to the door.”

He chuckled and looked pleased.

Ten minutes after that, even he was beginning to look a little worried. “Maybe we’d better go check,” he said. “She might have hurt herself or … or become ill.”

Midguard looked flustered. “Now, just a minute, colonel! I can’t allow you to just barge in on a young girl in the … ah … bathroom. Especially not Miss Ravenhurst.”

Brock made his decision fast; I’ll give him credit for that.

“Get Miss Pangloss on the phone!” he snapped. “She’s just down the corridor. She’ll come down on your orders.”

At the same time, he got to his feet and made a long jump for the door. He grabbed the doorpost as he went by, swung himself in a new orbit, and launched himself toward the front door. “Knock on the bathroom door, Oak!” he bawled as he left.

I did a long, low, flat dive toward the bedroom, swung left, and brought myself up sharply next to the bathroom door. I pounded on the door. “Miss Ravenhurst! Jack! Are you all right?”

No answer.

Good. There shouldn’t have been.

Colonel Brock fired himself into the room and braked himself against the wall. “Any answer?”

“No.”

“My men outside say she hasn’t left.” He rapped sharply on the door with the butt of his stun gun. “Miss Ravenhurst! Is there anything the matter?”

Again, no answer.

I could see that Brock was debating on whether he should go ahead and charge in by himself without waiting for the female executive who lived down the way. He was still debating when the woman showed up, escorted by a couple of the colonel’s uniformed guards.

Miss Pangloss was one of those brisk, efficient, middle-aged career-women who had no fuss or frills about her. She had seen us knocking on the door, so she didn’t bother to do any knocking herself. She just opened the door and went in.

The bathroom was empty.

Again, as it should be.

All hell broke loose then, with me and Brock making most of the blather. It took us nearly ten minutes to find that the only person who had left the area had been an elderly, thin man who had been wearing the baggy protective clothing of a maintenance man.

By that time, Jack Ravenhurst had been gone more than forty minutes. She could be almost anywhere on Ceres.

Colonel Brock was furious and so was I. I sneered openly at his assurance that the girl couldn’t leave and then got sneered back at for letting other people do what was supposed to be my job. That phase only lasted for about a minute, though.