Ander seemed calm, almost sleepy, except that his breathing was a little ragged and there was sweat trickling down his neck. The cigar had been for my benefit, but he really hadn’t noticed the kzinti. Mankind had claimed this world, hadn’t we? Kzinti didn’t belong here, did they?

He sought the thread of conversation. “You don’t know where Feather Filip is, and you last saw the magical autodoc a year and a half ago.”

“Exactly. I don’t know that Feather hasn’t been watching for me to come back and get it. There were lamplighter islands in line of sight. She could be watching for me with a pair of mag specs.”

“Or she could be anywhere on Fafnir. But if I find her, she can take me to the island.”

I kept silent.

“I can reach some funds. Tell you what,” Ander said. “Take my entire expense credit. Five thousand and change. I’ll have to live on credit till Sigmund can send me more.”

“No, no, Ander. I want a hundred thousand.”

“I’d have to beam Sigmund. I’d have to tell him what it is for. Where does that leave me?”

“Tell him I want two hundred thousand. Keep half yourself.”

“Beowulf, what you have to sell is a tool that’s been left under seawater. The technology is in records left behind by Carlos Wu.”

“Did he leave records of his research? You don’t know that. Encrypted? You don’t know. I don’t, either. Could the Fafnir government get the techniques by studying the autodoc itself? We don’t know.”

Ander laughed at that. “What are you going to tell the Fafnir bureaucrats? You stand five ten, maybe, but you can produce records that show you seven feet tall? Records can be faked, Beowulf. I’m your only customer.”

This was fun. I had his attention, finally. “What if we take a stunted kzinti—there are a few—and skin him, and before he suffers too much trauma, we shove him in Carlos Wu’s ’doc. Would it rebuild him into a passable human? A perfect spy?”

He guffawed. “That is really ridiculous.”

“Oh, maybe. But there are wealthy kzinti families on Fafnir.”

“They don’t know how tall you used to be, either! Anyway, dealing with kzinti is crazy dangerous. Beowulf, I’ve got nearly six thousand, and you can have it all. Otherwise you’ll have to wait while I tell Sigmund Ausfaller what you’re selling, and Sigmund makes a counteroffer, and you settle, and he finally sends credit, all by hyperwave across ten light-years. And if I find Feather while you’re waiting, you get nothing.”

“Good enough. Tell him two hundred thousand stars—”

“One.”

“One. Half in advance, half when you’ve got the ’doc. I’ll be here at the Pequod until the money comes in.” I stood up. “It’s midnight. Pay my consultant’s fee at the hotel desk.” I walked out, thinking I’d timed that nicely.

I stopped at the desk to learn my room number. I told them there would be a payment entered against room charges.