But the young Salarik swung around to face the steward his eyes wide, his
nose questing. And Sinbad gave a whining yowl and made a spring to push
his head against the steward's now aromatic hand.

So--now they had it--an opening wedge. Dane came up to the three.

"All right to take a leaf or two?" he asked Mura.

"Why not? I grow it for Sinbad. To a cat it is like heemel smoke or a
tankard of lackibod."

And by Sinbad's actions Dane guessed that the plant did hold for the cat
the same attraction those stimulants produced in human beings. He
carefully broke off a small stem supporting three leaves and presented it
to the Salarik, who stared at him and then, snatching the twig, raced
from the hydro garden as if pursued by feuding clansmen.

Dane heard the pad of his feet on the ladder--apparently the cub was
making sure of escape with his precious find. But the Cargo-master
apprentice was frowning. As far as he could see there were only five of
the plants.

"That's all the catnip you have?"

Mura tucked Sinbad under his arm and shooed Dane before him out of the
hydro. "There was no need to grow more. A small portion of the herb goes
a long way with this one," he put the cat down in the corridor. "The
leaves may be preserved by drying. I believe that there is a small box of
them in the galley."