“Well,” she said, “at least there’ll be one world where we don’t have these idiot delays before we can land.” She paused. “Have you thought about what other improvements you’ll make?”

“No. But I think I can make one guarantee.”

“Oh? What is that?”

“It will be safe to walk the streets of my city.”

“I don’t suppose I’d like to be a lawbreaker in your city,” she agreed. “What does the populace think of this idea?”

“Given the previous few monarchs, they’ll approve.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then they’ll learn to adjust,” he said softly.

Suddenly the radio crackled with static.

“Southern Cross, you are cleared for landing. We will now feed the coordinates into your computer.” There followed two seconds of high-pitched humming, after which the ship began decelerating and heading downward toward the surface of Sunnybeach.

“I trust your passport is in order,” remarked the Angel. “I don’t suppose customs will be any less pompous and self-important.”

“Of course,” she replied.

But when they landed, she found herself the object of some ten minutes’ worth of mild harassment, since her passport hadn’t been scanned or registered since Pegasus. When they finally released her, the Angel was nowhere to be seen, and she walked rapidly through the spaceport, looking for him. She passed a handful of human vendors, as well as a number of aliens selling everything from indigestible sweets to incomprehensible wood carvings, and eventually found the bounty hunter at a tobacco stand, purchasing a fresh supply of cigars from a pink, tripodal being from Hesporite III.

“This place is simply lousy with aliens,” she remarked. “I didn’t know Sunnybeach was so cosmopolitan.”

“It isn’t,” said the Angel. “They’re not allowed to leave the free trade zone around the spaceport.”

“By the way, I want to thank you for all your help back there at the customs desk,” she said sarcastically.

“My papers were in order,” he replied.

“You could have waited.”

“Partners wait. Traveling companions don’t.”

He paid for the cigars, placed them in a lapel pocket, and began following the signs to the ground vehicle rental area. Virtue fell into step beside him.

When they arrived, he stopped and turned to her.

“You’re not coming with me. Find your own transportation, and register at the Welcome Inn.”

“Why can’t we go into town together?” she asked. “It’ll be more convenient.”

“Because you’re feeling followed.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I didn’t see anybody,” Virtue protested.

“I did.”

“Then how do you know that you’re not the one who’s being followed?”

“Because when I left customs, he stayed behind and waited for you.”

“What does he look like?” asked Virtue.

“He’s not that clumsy,” replied the Angel. “I’ve only gotten two brief glimpses of him.”

“How do you know he’s following me if you’ve only had two glimpses of him?”