As he stood in the lobby of the Welcome Inn, staring apprehensively out into the street while Virtue Mackenzie registered at the front desk, Halfpenny Terwilliger found himself in complete agreement with Murchison.

“All right,” said Virtue, walking over to him. “I’m all set.”

“Good,” replied the little gambler. “Let’s go up to your room and wait for the Angel there.”

“He’s supposed to meet me right here.”

“How soon?”

“At sunset.”

“That’s another two hours or more,” complained Terwilliger. “Hell, Bates could walk here from the spaceport by then.”

“Nobody walks in this climate.”

“Damn it! You know what I mean!” He tried to regain his composure. “I’m not going to sit around this idiot hotel’s idiot lobby for two hours. I might just as well stand out in the street with a bull’s-eye painted on my forehead.”

“Okay,” assented Virtue. “Send the message and you can hide in my room.”

“Message? What message?”

“To Cain.”

“Right now?” he demanded.

“Whenever you want to,” replied Virtue sweetly. “But you can’t go up to my room until you do it.”

Terwilliger glared at her, then uttered a sigh of resignation. “You win. Where do I send it from?”

“I’m sure the hotel has a subspace tightbeam transmitter. Just ask at the desk.”

“What’s your room number?”

“Why?” asked Virtue suspiciously.

“I’m going to have to bill it to your room.”

“The hell you are.”

“But I don’t have any money.”

“Come on, you little rodent,” said Virtue. “I saw you bribing the waiter back in the restaurant.”

“That was Cain’s money,” he said lamely.

“I don’t give a damn whose money you spend, as long as it isn’t mine.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to pay for it?” he persisted. “It seems kind of immoral to use his money to send him a phony message.”

“Not as immoral as lying to me about your finances,” she said firmly. “Now reach into your pocket and dig.”

He shrugged, approached the desk, had the tightbeam booth pointed out to him, and began walking across the lobby to it.

“I’m sure you don’t mind if I come along,” said Virtue, joining him.

“You’re very distrusting,” said the gambler. “It’ll turn you into a grouchy old lady.”

“A grouchy, rich old lady,” she corrected him with a smile.

It took him about two minutes to compose the message and another minute to issue routing and coding instructions so that Schussler would receive it. Then he paid his charges at the desk and turned to Virtue.

“Are you satisfied now?” he asked. “Or would you rather I stood on the street with a bunch of signs pointing to me?”

“Don’t tempt me,” she said, heading off toward the elevators. He followed her, and a minute later they were walking down the corridor of the fourth floor.