The search for Crimp Haggerty had been going on for two years, when Bob Wren brought Crimp's daughter Lala back from Venus. The girl was half Venusian, with long purple eyes, a tiny nose, yellow skin and flowing black hair. She had all the tricks and manners of the yellow Venusians, but there was earthly intelligence there too, beneath her shallow prattle and playful habits. It was that intelligence which made her difficult to handle; besides which, she had inherited her father's gift for plain and fancy lying.

Wren was convinced she was Haggerty's daughter, and if anybody could identify the old reprobate, Lala was that person. He had a hunch he knew where to look next for Haggerty. The Intelligence Department had followed leads which took them far and wide throughout the Solar system, and added nothing good to Haggerty's reputation. The one place they had not looked was right under their noses in the settlements around Central Spaceport on Earth. If Haggerty had managed to slip through quarantine with faked papers, he would not find it so easy to slip out again. Regulations had tightened considerably since his first known visit to Earth some ten years before.

Although Crimp Haggerty was featured prominently on all "wanted" lists, the local police had never found the slightest hint of his presence.

Wren took Lala with him when he went to make his preliminary report, but the Chief was not amused. Lala ran to his desk, leaned far over and spit at him.

"Liar!" she shrilled. "You are not my father."

Wren grabbed her and gave her a hard spank. She backed away, rubbing the place and smiling venomously.

"This man is the Chief," Wren said. "You have offended him, and you have offended me. Nobody said he was your father. Now, you will be punished hard."

"Liar," she said softly, and licked her lips.

"You have spoiled her," the Chief accused grimly.

"Not I. She was like that when I caught her. She's Haggerty's daughter, and she's going to help me find him."

"Where?"

"Right here, I hope. He left Venus three years ago, bound for Mars on the Centillion, which was on the tri-planet run at the time. I think he left the ship here when she was laid up for repairs, instead of completing the round trip. I couldn't find any evidence of his return to Venus."

"What does she say?" the Chief snapped.

"She keeps changing her story. She has inherited her father's tendency to prevaricate ... with frills."

Lala had begun to primp and preen without benefit of a mirror, and the Chief looked at her without pleasure. Brand Hickey was a solid, chunky man with a keen, hard mind. As Chief of the ID, he was seldom surprised and rarely pleased; but he was respected, not only by his own men, but by every other government department.

"Maybe she's not even his daughter," he growled, and shot a suspicious glance at Wren.

"I checked that," Wren said stiffly. "And I also found more samples of the X-metal in the hut where she was living. The bulk of the stuff is consigned to you and ought to be delivered shortly, but she's--Come here, Lala."

She came at once, light-footed in soft leather moccasins, and leaned against him affectionately. He lifted a silky black cord of braided hair over her head, and she wailed and tried to scratch him. He held her off with an experienced grip, and tossed the ornament to the desk. A polished green metal object hung from the hairbraid necklace. It looked like an irregular lump of melted metal, with a loop formed by chance on one end through which the cord was strung.

The Chief picked it up and hitched his chair closer to the desk, turning it in his blunt fingers. He nodded his head slowly. "That's the stuff, all right. She know anything about it?"

"Aye me! Aye me!" Lala began to wail in a chant which grew louder and shriller with each repetition.

Wren shook his head and held out his hand. The ornament was quickly tossed back to him, and he slipped it over Lala's head as she tried to bite him, but the piercing chant stopped abruptly. She whirled suddenly toward the Chief and he threw up his arms defensively, but Wren caught her and backed her away out of range.

"I don't think she knows where it came from. To her, it's just a good luck charm which her father brought her. Apparently, she's fond of him, so I'm counting on a spontaneous reunion if he's anywhere around here."

"You'll have your hands full taking her through the dives where he's likely to be hanging out. He knows he's wanted on smuggling charges, quite aside from our interest in the X-metal, and he certainly won't be alone. You may have trouble proving his identity, since he and his daughter are both practiced liars."

"I know." Wren nodded thoughtfully, and glanced at Lala who was once more absorbed in her endless primping. "That's the one thing that keeps bothering me, why the Department is willing to go to so much trouble and expense to find the guy, when he's such a big liar that nothing he says can be relied upon, even after we get him."

"There's no doubt but what he went to Vulcan on the only known expedition to that planet twenty years ago. There were three ships, and he was captain of one. The other two were never heard from, but he turned up again on Venus. What's more, he carried a letter from Captain Blaylock to his wife, written on Vulcan, and mentioning the fact that our subject had quarreled with the man leading the expedition and was returning."

"Of course, that's no proof that the X-metal came from Vulcan."

"No," the Chief admitted. "We have nothing but subject's word for that. He donated a good-sized hunk of the stuff to old Cap Mulligan's museum, and that's how it was tagged. When Mulligan died, the stuff was all turned over to the government, and some bright boy got curious about the chunk of Vulcan and started running tests on it. You know the rest."

Wren nodded. "So now they want to see more of the mysterious X-metal, but they don't want to send an expedition to Vulcan without further proof. By the time they get through hunting our guy, they'll have spent enough to outfit an expedition in the first place."

"Not quite," the Chief said dryly. "The reason subject is so valuable is because the situation is so unusual. The planet Vulcan was discovered nearly a thousand years ago, way back in the Twentieth Century, but except for that one known expedition, it has never been visited. Observatory reports show it to be without life of any kind, smoldering with interior heat, and lashed by violent storms. As far as we can find out, our subject is the only man alive who has been there and back. All the rest of the crew of his expedition ship have died or vanished in the past twenty years. Also, the X-metal is not to be found anywhere else in the solar system. It was only by chance that its potential value was discovered."

Wren shook his head and grimaced in disbelief. "The facts don't hang together, Chief. According to the lab reports, the stuff is not pure metal, but a mysterious alloy, which should indicate that it was produced by some form of intelligent life. But according to observatory reports, life on Vulcan is impossible."

"There may have been life at some time in the remote past. Although," the Chief admitted, "that also seems impossible. The core of the planet is still dangerously hot; it must have been much hotter in the past. However, our speculations don't count, and won't get us anywhere. All we have to do is follow orders. In this case, the order came from the top, so let's not question it out, loud. I'll get you a special permit for her, but you'll have to take full responsibility. If she gets loose, or causes any trouble, it'll be on your head. Meanwhile, you'd better put her in detention and file your formal report. And don't spare the details. The Department doesn't look too good on this job, so do what you can to help me convince them how tough it's been, and how thorough we've been."

"I'll make it good," Wren grinned. "I had to fight her whole tribe to get this baby away from them. And those samples of metal ought to be a big help. That makes the trail look hot, whether it is or not."

"If it is," the Chief murmured, "if you turn him up here, there'll be a nice bonus for you, Bob. The Department has had too many men tied up for too long on this thing. The old scoundrel is more slippery than a needle in a haystack. And in our case, we don't know which haystack he's riding in." He flipped a thumb at Lala. "You better put her back together before you take her out of here."

"Lala! Put your dress on," Wren said sharply. She had taken it off, and was trying to drape it around her lithe midsection, humming contentedly over the task.

Wren started toward her, and she tried to put it on upside down, giggling delightedly. He finally got it pulled down over her head, his face reddening with the effort as the Chief looked on sardonically.

"It doesn't pay to spoil them," the Chief remarked dryly.

"I don't want to antagonize her," Wren explained somewhat sheepishly. "She'd be no help to me at all if I abused her."

"Well, she's your problem. You brought her here on your own initiative. Don't blame the Department if she cuts your throat."

"I won't!" Wren said shortly. "Leave it on!" he admonished the wriggling Lala. "We're going out."

Her slim, lithe body was suddenly still, she drew herself up with dignity, and walked to the door with regal grace. Suddenly, she whirled and spat an ugly name at the Chief, adding, "Liar! Thief!"

Unmoved, the Chief flipped a palm outward in the universal gesture of rejection that said plainer than words, "Take her away."

Wren took her, and not without some difficulty, left her in detention. Her wailing chant followed him down the corridor from a private cell as he left.

He spent the entire day on his report, heeding the Chief's injunction to include all details and difficulties. Before he was finished, he was gratified to hear that receipt of the X-metal samples had occasioned some excitement in the Department of Metals and Minerals. The mysterious combination of elements was consistently the same in all the specimens, and it was that combination which gave the stuff its high value. It was exactly what was needed in the construction of powerful communication equipment. No other known metal or alloy could be made to meet the specifications. But if the source of the X-medal could be discovered, it would be possible to produce equipment that would bridge vast distances, and would be the final step in man's conquest of time and space.

Wren sighed, and thought of the disreputable old space Rover he was hunting. So often in the glorious history of humanity, the greatest advances depended upon a frail and inglorious individual. Almost as if Fate meant to teach man humility in his greatness...

The special permit for Lala was delivered to his quarters, but it was evening before he returned to the detention building. The superintendent met him with cold disapproval.

"I thought you told us that Venusian devil was not wild," he said. "She should have been assigned to Psycho Treatment."

"What's she done?" Wren sighed resignedly.

"Scratched up two women guards, wrecked the cell, and screamed all day. She wouldn't eat either, so it was impossible to slip her a narcotic."

"I don't want her drugged," Wren snapped. "I'll take her off your hands right now."

"You will not!" the Super declared. "I can't release anything in that condition, and you know it. Just what," he added icily, "do you think you're trying to get away with?"

"Confidential business," Wren returned coldly, and showed the special permit with ID seal and signature.

"Oh, a special," the Super muttered dubiously, and looked more closely at Wren who still wore the uniform of Executive Officer in the Inter-Planetary Transport. "O-oh. You're ID. I thought ... the uniform, of course ... never know where you fellows are going to turn up."

"You can check with the ID--afterwards," Wren snapped, and went toward the cell corridor. There was no sound of screaming now, and he said: "If you've done anything to quiet her--"

"No, no. I'm sure nothing has been done. She may have harmed herself, but I can't be responsible for that."