The Wrong Box 1

It was hard to say what was so unpleasing about the green-skinned man's appearance. He was tall and athletically built; his head was clean-shaven in the Orion manner; his features were clean-cut and regular. Perhaps the slight slant of his eyes was at just the wrong angle, or his cheekbones stood out a little too prominently, or his high-bridged nose was too straight and narrow, or the lips of his small mouth were a touch too full and plump.... Whatever it was, the overall effect was, somehow, disquieting.

He stood in the small room, facing the table, his hands folded before him. He stood, and he waited.

The table was bare, save for a metal box, perhaps the size of a shoebox. The box, too, was almost featureless; its top was marked only by a small, shallow, square depression.

The man stood, waiting, imperturbably patient.

His eyes flickered a little, but he showed no other reaction, when the door of the room slid open, and she came in.

She was tall, and her skin was dark jade in colour, and her hair was a waterfall of purest black. She wore the silks and jewels of a high-ranking Orion Matron. She stood and posed for a moment, framed in the doorway, one leg showing bare to the hip through the slit in her gown. There was nothing unpleasing about her face.... She stood, and let the small room fill with her presence, and then she stepped forward.

"Kalevar Thrang," she said, and her voice was a purr.

"Matron," said the man.

She strode up to him, looked into his face, into the glossy blackness of his hugely dilated pupils. Apparently satisfied, she stepped back, and turned towards the table. "You have brought me this?"

"I have, Matron." His voice was dull, respectful, obsequious.

"It looks... as I had expected," she said.

"It is as I said... but forgive me, Matron," Kalevar Thrang said. "There is a test... that only you can perform...."

"Of course." The Matron reached into the bosom of her gown, and drew out a small, square crystal. She reached out towards the box. As it came close, the crystal began to glow with a faint yellow light. The Matron smiled a perfect smile. She placed the crystal in the depression on the top of the box. It fitted exactly. The glow changed colour, from yellow to green, and there was a faint clicking sound - as of a lock being opened.

The Matron's smile grew broader. "Yes," she said. "You have done well -"

Then her expression changed. Her eyes widened with shock and surprise, and then emptied of any emotion at all. She made a small grunting noise, and a tiny trace of blood showed in a trickle from the corner of her mouth.

There was a trace of blood, too, on the long narrow knife that Thrang now withdrew from the Matron's back.

The Matron fell forward, collapsing to the floor in an inelegant tangle of limbs. She did not move again.

"I am gratified to hear it, Matron," said Kalevar Thrang. He wiped the knife clean and sheathed it. Then he picked up the box.