"No," he said softly, "leave the lights out. We won't need them to talk."
"I've had enough of the dark for one night," muttered Biron.
"We'll leave the door ajar."
Biron lacked the will to argue. He dropped into the nearest chair and watched the rectangle of light through the closing door narrow down to a thin line. Now that it was all over, he was getting the shakes.
Jonti steadied the door and rested his little swagger stick upon the crack of light on the floor. "Watch it. It will tell us if anyone passes, or if the door moves."
Biron said, "Please, I'm not in a conspiratorial mood. If you don't mind, I'd appreciate your telling me whatever it is you want to tell me. You've saved my life, I know, and tomorrow I'll be properly thankful. Right now, I could do with a short drink and a long rest."
"I can imagine your feelings," Jonti said, "but the too-long rest you might have had has been avoided, momentarily. I would like to make it more than just momentarily. Do you know that I know your father?"
The question was an abrupt one, and Biron raised his eyebrows, a gesture lost in the dark. He said, "He has never mentioned knowing you."
"I would be surprised if he did. He doesn't know me by the name I use here. Have you heard from your father recently, by the way?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Because he is in great danger."
"What?"
Jonti's hand found the other's arm in the dimness and gripped it firmly. "Please! Keep your voice as it has been." Biron realized, for the first time that they had been whispering.
Jonti resumed, "I'll be more specific. Your father has been taken into custody. You understand the significance?"
"No, I certainly don't understand. Who has taken him into custody, and what are you getting at? Why are you bothering me?" Biron's temples were throbbing. The Hypnite and the near death had made it impossible to fence with the cool dandy sitting so close to him that his whispers were as plain as shouts.
"Surely," came the whisper, "you have some inkling of the work your father is doing?"
"If you know my father, you know he is Rancher of Widemos. That is his work."
Jonti said, "Well, there is no reason you should trust me, other than that I am risking my own life for you. But I already know all that you can tell me. As an example, I know that your father has been conspiring against the Tyranni."
"I deny that," said Biron tensely. "Your service to me this night does not give you the right to make such statements about my father."
"You are foolishly evasive, young man, and you are wasting my time. Don't you see that the situation is beyond verbal fencing? I'll say it outright. Your father is in the custody of the Tyranni. He may be dead by now."
"I don't believe you." Biron half rose.
"I am in a position to know."
"Let's break this off, Jonti. I am in no mood for mystery, and I resent this attempt of yours to-"
"Well, to what?" Jonti's voice lost some of its refined edge. "What do I gain by telling you this? May I remind you that this knowledge of mine, which you will not accept, made it plain to me that an attempt might be made to kill you. Judge by what has happened, Farrill."
Biron said, "Start again and tell it straight. I'll listen."
"Very well. I imagine, Farrill, that you know me to be a fellow countryman from the Nebular Kingdoms, although I've been passing myself off as a Vegan."
"I judged that might be a possibility by your accent. It didn't seem important."
"It's important, my friend. I came here because, like your father, I didn't like the Tyranni. They've been oppressing our people for fifty years. That's a long time."
"I'm not a politician."
Again Jonti's voice had an irritated edge to it. "Oh, I'm not one of their agents trying to get you into trouble. I'm telling you the truth. They caught me a year ago as they have caught your father now. But I managed to get away, and came to Earth where I thought I might be safe until I was ready to return. That's all I need to tell you about myself."
"It is more than I have asked for, sir." Biron could not force the unfriendliness out of his voice. Jonti affected him unfavorably with his too-precise mannerisms.
"I know that. But it is necessary to tell you so much at least, for it was in this manner that I met your father. He worked with me, or, rather, I with him. He knew me but not in his official capacity as the greatest nobleman on the planet of Nephelos. You understand me?"
Biron nodded uselessly in the darkness and said, "Yes."
"It is not necessary to go into that further. My sources of information have been maintained even here, and I know that he has been imprisoned. It is knowledge. If it were merely suspicion, this attempt on your life would have been sufficient proof."
"In what way?"
"If the Tyranni have the father, would they leave the son at large?"
"Are you trying to tell me that the Tyranni set that radiation bomb in my room? That's impossible."
"Why is it impossible? Can't you understand their position? The Tyranni rule fifty worlds; they are outnumbered hundreds to one. In such a position, simple force is insufficient. Devious methods, intrigue, assassination are their specialties. The net they weave across space is a wide one, and close-meshed. I can well believe that it extends across five hundred light-years to Earth."
Biron was still in the grip of his nightmare. In the distance there were the faint sounds of the lead shields being moved into place. In his room the counter must still be murmuring.