Chapter 1

From the outset, it was apparent that the evening's activities weren't going to detract a whit from Horace P. Siskin's reputation as an extraordinary host.

On the basis of the Tycho Tumbling Trio alone, he had already provided the year's most fascinating entertainment. But when he unveiled the first hypnostone from Mars' Syrtis Major region, it was clear he had planted his distinction upon a new pinnacle.

As for myself, the trio and the stone, though intriguing on their own merits, sank to the level of the commonplace before the party was over. For I speak with exclusive authority when I say there is nothing as bizarre as watching a man-just disappear.

Which, incidentally, was not part of the entertainment.

As commentary on Siskin's lavish excesses, I might point out that the Tycho Tumblers had to have lunar-equivalent gravity. The G-suppressor platform, bulky and anomalous in its lush setting, dominated one of the rooms of the penthouse suite while its generators cluttered the roof garden outside.

The hypnostone presentation was a full production in itself, complete with two doctors in attendance. Without any inkling of the incongruous developments the evening held in futurity, I watched the proceedings with detached interest.

There was a slim young brunette whose piercing, dark eyes clouded and rained tears freely as one of the stone's facets bathed her face with soft azure reflections.

Ever so slowly, the crystal rotated on its turntable, sending shafts of polychromatic light sweeping across the darkened room like the spokes of a great wheel. The radial movement stopped and a crimson beam fell upon the somewhat cautious face of one of Siskin's elderly business associates.

"No!" He reacted instantly. "I've never smoked in my life! I won't now!"

Laughter brimmed the room and the stone resumed rotation.

Perhaps concerned that I might be the next subject, I withdrew across plush carpeting to the refreshment alcove.

At the bar, I dialed the autotender for a Scotch-asteroid and stood staring through the window at the sparkling city below.

"Punch me a bourbon and water, will you, Doug?"

It was Siskin. In the subdued light he seemed inordinately small. Watching him approach, I marveled over the inconsistencies of appearance. Scarcely five feet three, he bore himself with the proud certainty of a giant-which indeed he was, financially speaking. A full head of hair, only slightly streaked with white, belied his sixty-four years, as did his almost unlined face and restless, gray eyes.

"One bourbon and water coming up," I confirmed dryly, dialing in the order.

He leaned back against the bar. "You don't seem to be enjoying the party," he observed, a suggestion of petulance in his voice.

But I let it go without recognition.

He propped a size five shoe on the rung of a stool. "This blowout cost plenty. And it's all for you. I should think you'd show some appreciation." He was only half joking.

His drink came up and I handed it over. "All for me?"

"Well, not entirely." He laughed. "I'll have to admit it has its promotional possibilities."

"So I gathered. I see the press and networks are well represented."

"You don't object, do you? Something like this can give Reactions, Inc., an appropriate send-off."

I lifted my drink from the delivery slot and gulped half of it. "REIN doesn't need a send-off. It'll stand on its own feet."

Siskin bristled slightly-as he usually does when he senses even token opposition. "Hall, I like you. I've got you pegged for a possibly interesting future-not only in REIN, but perhaps also in some of my other enterprises. However-"

"I'm not interested in anything beyond Reactions."

"For the present, however," he continued firmly, "your contribution is singularly technical. You stick to your knitting as director and let my promotional specialists take care of their end of it."

We drank in silence.

Then he twisted the glass in his tiny hands. "Of course, I realize you might resent not holding any interest in the corporation."

"I'm not concerned with stock. I'm paid well enough. I just want to get the job done."

"You see, it was different with Hannon Fuller." Siskin stretched his fingers tensely around the glass. "He invented the hardware, the system. He came to me seeking financial backing. We formed the corporation-eight of us did, as a matter of fact. Under the arrangement, he came in for twenty per cent of the pot."

"Having been his assistant for five years, I'm aware of all that." I dialed the autotender for a refill.

"Then what does have you out here sulking?"

Reflections from the hypnostone crept across the ceiling of the alcove and splashed against the window, fighting back the brilliance of the city. A woman screamed until her shrill cries were finally subdued by a swell of laughter.