The back of his neck hurt.

He sat up and rubbed it. The Phaeton floated a few meters offshore. The tall girl was leaning out of the cabin, staring back at him.

“Sorry, Mr. Kingsley! The tag next to the ignition here lists several private comm numbers. I’ll see that someone comes out to pick you up before it gets too cold!”

Maybe he could make it to the craft before she could swing away. He got to his feet and started a mad dash for the beach. He got four steps before an excruciating twinge at the back of his neck crumpled him to the sand.

“Goddamn you!” he moaned. “What did you do to me?”

“Cooled your ardor!” she yelled back over the dull whine of the idling fans. “Nothing permanent. Ask next time before you reach!” She closed the door and pivoted the ship expertly, flinging small wavelets onto the beach.

He sat staring after her long after the hoveraft had disappeared over the horizon. Curses did equal time with moans.

His sea-green foxfire vest was full of sand.

“Miss Kitten Kai-sung?” The clerk tried hard to keep from goggling at her. She nodded. The gangling adolescent was trying to shift his eyes from the computerized registry to her face without lingering on any of the intervening territory. He was failing miserably. Eighteen, maybe nineteen. Only a few years younger than she. But the way he was staring at her you’d think he’d never seen . . .!

She sighed. She ought to be used to this by now. The smile she gave him was seductive.

“And you say the room has a nice view?”

“Oh yes, ma’m! Best in the hotel! You can see most of the harbor. It’s nice here. You’re away from the noise of the shuttleport and docks.” He hesitated, stared statue-like at the register. “Uh, if there’s anything, uh, you need, Miss Kai-sung . . . ask for Roy. That’s I. Me.” He didn’t have enough room in the tiny clerk’s cubby for an honest swagger, but he tried.

She reached out and touched the tip of his nose with a finger, dropping her voice another octave.

“I shall keep that in mind . . . Roy.” She turned to leave.

“Oh, Miss Kai-sung!”

“Call me Kitten, Roy.”

The youth grew ten centimeters. Hate yourself, hussy, half of her thought! Love it, came the other half’s reply!

“There’s someone been waiting up for you in your room. He has diplomatic credentials, so I couldn’t keep him out. Says he’s an old friend. He’s not human.”

“That’s all right. I’m expecting him. His name’s Porsupah, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” the boy said in surprise. “You know him, then?”

“I’ve been his mistress for five years. Those Tolians . . .” She rolled her eyes as the door to the lift closed, leaving a fish-eyed clerk below. Somehow she contained her laughter. By eventide 90 percent of the hotel staff would know about the “stranger” in room 36.