The Stardroppers Read Free

were necessary to preserve his future usefulness. So he said reluctantly, “Stardroppers.”
    “I thought it might be. Well, well.” Redvers dumped his spent match in a handy ashtray. “I was wondering when you’d get into that particular act. Everyone else has been in it for months. Just fact-finding?”
    “That’s about the size of it.”
    “Then you’re welcome to dig for any facts you can. And by the way: you needn’t worry that being seen with me in public will foul you up. This is one of my working faces I have on. The name and rank are genuine, though, and so’s the card—I had it made at the Yard this morning.”
    He looked for a reaction in Dan’s face; Dan stonily denied him the pleasure of seeing any.
    “We also checked your room for bugs, and I can assure you there aren’t any. We knew which it was because we have a tap on the computer which centralizes hotel bookings in this village nowadays. All in all I feel rather pleased with myself today, which is why I’m treating myself to this cigar. Oh, I’m sorry—I should have asked if you’d like one. I imagine Havanas are something of a forgotten luxury as far as you people in the States are concerned.”
    “For a guy who knows all the answers, you’re trying very hard to needle me,” Dan said.
    “I suppose I am. I’m sorry. I’ll get back to the point. There are two major and several minor reasons why people get interested in the stardropping craze afflicting us. Among the minor reasons—well, commercial rivalry is one. The thing was invented here, and someone had the sense to tell Rainshaw he ought to file for a patent application, which incidentally makes fascinating reading. It’s a prime example of doubletalk.”
    “I’ve read it,” Dan grunted. But he agreed with Redvers’s description. The application discussed a device for the generation of certain patterned electricial impulses independent of the known spectrum of radiant energy, and it was perfectly clear from the fudged wording of the text that neither the applicant—nominally, the company Rainshaw had been working for at the time of the discovery—nor anyone else had the vaguest notion what was being patented.
    “You see what I mean, then,” Redvers nodded. “Well, obviously stardropping is now big business, and the designs we’ve licensed—I mean we the British—are proving fantastically profitable. But the things are so easy to copy that we’re having the devil’s own trouble with pirate manufacturers, of course. Never mind that, though; I doubt your people would be interested in patent infringements. Then, as you probably know, we get a lot of problems with—well, I suppose one has to call them addicts, who are convinced someone has found a way to convert the signals into plain English and is hiding marvelous secrets from the world. Rubbish, of course, but it’s turning intoquite a serious social problem. That, though, is not really my business and I doubt if it’s yours.
    “Of the major reasons, there’s what I consider this idiotic rivalry between the various nations to extract from stardroppers some knowledge which will make them masters of the world. Half the secret services on Earth seem to have sent people to London in the past year to grub around for hints and clues that might lead somewhere. But the Special Agency is the most fanatically internationalist of all the UN organizations, so unless you’ve turned your coat we can rule that out too. Which boils it down to one thing. You’re here to confirm that somebody can’t be found, and you’d far rather disprove the suspicion. Should I suggest a couple of likely names?”
    He looked unblinkingly at Dan. A wisp of aromatic blue smoke drifted across his face.
    “You do know all the answers,” Dan said at length. “I apologize for that crack about needling me.”
    “I wish we did!” Redvers said with sudden heaviness. “One of the constables at the airport mentioned that you were taken aback by