48.
"I'll see if I can get through," North assured him. "You can use the other communicator if you like, to spread the word to some of your people. But tell them this is one murder that will not go unpunished. We'll find them and destroy them. I swear it!"
"Thank you, lord," said The Old Hashon. "our people are very rarely promised justice."
North went to his room and put in a call to Morn. The circuit was busy, so he told the operator to put his next in line. When he gave his name, the operator told him he had been given priority. Ten minutes later, the line opened and Morning Star could bee seen on the viewer. From somewhere a strong light glimmered off his golden skin.
"You've heard?" asked Morn. "It hasn't even hit the news yet, and the communicator has been buzzing endlessly. Some of these people are so phony in expressing their sympathies, I'd like to beam them!"
"I know," agreed North. "I had the same problem. Of course for you it's harder, but I'll tell you, Morn, I've got friends on this, and we'll find out. I don't care how long it takes. We'll find out and we'll get them! If we can't get them legally, there's other ways!"
"I think you will," Morn told him. "You're one of the few people that's said anything like that I believe, but don't get yourself in trouble, North, and if you do find out anything, let me know before you act. Do you understand me, North?"
This was the closest North had ever seen his friend to being angry. The look in Morn's eyes frightened him, and Northern Star did not frighten easily.
"You'll be there, Morn. Don't worry. I promise it."
The look in Morn's eyes changed. "You're a good friend, North," he said, "and I've got damned few of them. Don't go too fast that you can't turn back if you get in trouble."
"I'll keep low," the other answered. "I'd better get going. I can't think of any more to say, Morn. Your mother was one of the greatest people I ever knew. Keep the faith, friend."
"Peace. Prosperity," replied Morn. The two signed off simultaneously. North sat in his room for a long time, not doing anything, but staring at the blank wall.
"Why," he said to himself, "do the good people always die so young? She was less than two-hundred, and such a wonderful person."
A few minutes later there was a tap on his door, and North swung his chair around. "Come in," he said,, and the door automatically opened with his verbal command. North's mother entered the room.
"The Old One just told me," she said. "Did you get thorugh?"
"Yes," North told her.
His mother could tell the call had been hard on her son. "I came