"In the Red Spark Cafe, Colonel. With his sister, and a party."

"Good enough! The Red Spark has an image-finder. Have you visual connection?"

"Yes. The whole damn room; they got a dozen finders.

In a moment our mirror-grid was glowing with the two-foot square image of the interior of the Red Spark Cafe...

The image showed the interior of a large oval room, balconied and terraced; a dais dance-floor, raised high in the center with three professional couples gyrating there; and beneath them the public dance-grid, slowly rotating on its central axis...

Venza asked eagerly, "Which is he?"

"Over there on the third terrace, to the left. That table. There seem to be six of them in the party."

We'll get a closer viewpoint."

The table in question was no more than a square inch on our image.

"Here's your near-look."

Our image shifted to another viewpoint. The lens-eye with which we were connected now was mounted over the draperies behind the Martian's table. We were looking down diagonally upon the table, at a distance of no more than ten or fifteen feet, so that its image filled all our grid...