The Chalice of Death by Robert Silverberg

seen you for a month, Hallam.”
    â€œI guess twenty minutes won’t matter much,” he said, grinning.
    They found Carso later that day sitting in a bar in downtown Kariad City, clutching a mug of Kariadi beer in his hand. The half-breed looked soiled and puffy-faced; his scalp was dark with several days’ growth of hair, his bushy beard untrimmed and unkempt.
    He looked up in sudden alarm as Helna’s hand brushed lightly along his shoulder. “Hello,” he grunted. Then, seeing Navarre, he added, “Who’s your friend?”
    â€œHis name is Melwod Finst. I thought you’d be interested in meeting him.”
    Carso extended a grimy band. “Pleased.”
    Navarre stared unhappily at his erstwhile comrade. Filthy, drunken, ragged-looking, there was little of the Earthman left about Carso. True enough, Carso was a half-breed, his mother an Earthwoman—but now he seemed to have brought to the fore the worst characteristics of his nameless, drunken Joran father. He was a sad sight.
    Navarre slipped in beside the half-breed and gestured at the bowl of foul Kariadi beer. “I’ve never understood how you could drink that stuff, Domrik.”
    Carso wheeled heavily in his seat to look at Navarre. “I didn’t know we were on first-name terms, friend. But—wait! Speak again!”
    â€œYou’re a bleary-eyed sot of a half-breed,” Navarre said in his natural voice.
    Carso frowned. “That voice—your face—you remind me of someone. But he was not of Kariad.”
    â€œNor am I,” said Navarre. “Blue skin’s a trapping easily acquired. As is a Kariadi wig.”
    Carso started to chuckle, bending low over the beer. At length he said, “You devil, you fooled me!”
    â€œAnd many another. There’s a price on my head back on Jorus.”
    â€œEh?” Carso was abruptly sober; the merriment drained from his coarse-featured face. “What’s that you say? Are you out of favor with the Overlord? I was counting on you to have that foolish sentence of banishment revoked and—”
    â€œKausirn knows our plans. I barely got off Jorus alive; even Joroiran is against me. He ordered Kausirn to send a fleet to destroy the settlement on Earth.”
    Carso bowed his head. “Does he know where Earth is? After all, it wasn’t easy for us to find it in the first place.”
    â€œI don’t know,” Navarre said. He glanced at Helna. “We’ll have to find the old librarian who gave us the lead. Keep him from helping anyone else.”
    Carso said, “That’s useless. If Kausirn knows about the Chalice and its contents, he also knows where the crypt was located and how to get there. At this moment the Jorus fleets are probably blasting our settlements. Here. Have a drink. It was a fine planet while it lasted, wasn’t it?”
    â€œNo Joran spacefleet has left the Cluster in the last month,” Helna said quietly.
    Navarre looked up. “How do you know?”
    â€œOligocrat Marhaill has reason to suspect the doings on Jorus. He keeps careful watch over the Joran military installations, and whenever a Joran battlefleet departs on maneuvers we are apprised of it. This information is routed through me on its way to Marhaill. And I tell you that the Joran fleet has been absolutely quiet all this past month.”
    Reddening, Navarre asked, “How long has this sort of observation been going on?”
    â€œFour years, at least.”
    Navarre slammed the flat of his hand against the stained table top. “Four years! That means you penetrated my alleged defensive network with ease … and all the time I was trying to set up a spy-system on Kariad, and failing!” He eyed the girl with new respect. “How did you do it?”
    She smiled. “Secret, Navarre, secret! Let’s maintain the pretense—I’m Earthman to Marhaill’s Court, you to Joroiran’s.