Both suns were well up when Nick settled his rented hovercar in the alley behind the hotel in Kline Corners. Susie landed right behind him, and they both shut down. Nick told the women to wait while he went inside the hotel.

The lobby was empty except for the old clerk, who was watching a gladiator match on a dusty 3DV. He looked up as Nick leaned across the counter.

“Mornin’, Marshal. You just gettin’ in?”

Nick ignored the question. “Sam, are those two rooms upstairs still empty?”

“Yep. Always are, except for weekends. Rented ‘em Friday night, but they’re empty now.”

“Okay, I’m renting them both for a few days. Give me the keys.”

“What name you want ‘em under?”

“My name.” Nick pulled out his wallet and peeled off two hundred sirios. “If this doesn’t cover it, I’ll settle up later.”

Sam took the money and spun the keyboard around. “You wanna fill out the forms?”

Nick shook his head. “You already have my information. Just copy it for these rooms.”

Sam frowned, as if the idea were revolutionary.

“That computer does have a copy function, doesn’t it?”

Sam scratched his chin. “It might, but I never used it. Don’t know how it works.”

“Okay, forget it. I’ll do it later, just flag the rooms as rented. And Sam—” He reached out and touched the man’s chin, to make sure he had his attention. “Don’t tell anybody about this, you hear me? This is official U.F. business.”

The old man’s eyes widened slowly as awareness crept up on him. “Official business.”

“That’s right. Don’t tell a soul. If anybody wants the rooms, you say they’re not available. Anybody wants to know who is in them, you just say they’re reserved. You got that? Reserved.”

Sam nodded, his eyes glazed. “Reserved.”

“That’s right. Now, one more thing—I’m going to be in my room for a while, but if anybody besides Judy Norris comes up those stairs, I want you to call me before they reach the top. That’s very important. You got that?”

Sam moistened his lips. “Give you a call.”

“That’s right. You have my portable number. Now where are the keys?”

The old man handed him the two keys, still looking shell-shocked. This was more drama than he was used to. Nick saw his expression and got his attention again.

“Sam.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m a U.F. Marshal. This is official Federation business. It’s very important that I can count on you. If you let me down, or if I find out you told anyone about this…I may have to kill you.”

The old man recoiled as if he’d been slapped. Reality surged through his brain.

“I cain’t even tell Sheriff Blake?”

“Not even him. Nobody, Sam!”