“Here we are,” she said, pressing her thumb up against the lock mechanism. It took less than a second to scan her print and check it through the front desk’s computer, and the door receded into the wall.

“Nice,” commented Terwilliger, stepping into the room ahead of her. “Very nice.”

“Not bad,” she agreed, entering the room and ordering the door to slide shut behind them.

The room was large and airy, some twenty-five feet on a side, with a plush carpet, a king-sized bed, and a pair of very comfortable chairs. One wall housed a recessed cabinet which contained a holographic entertainment system that was currently displaying an assortment of paid advertisements for Sunnybeach’s rather mundane night life. A small table between the chairs had instructions for expanding it into a gaming table, with boards for chess, backgammon, and jabob, an alien card game that was all the rage in the trendiest human gambling establishments.

“I haven’t stayed in a place like this since I made my second fortune!” exclaimed Terwilliger.

“Your second fortune?” repeated Virtue. “What happened to it?”

He grinned ruefully. “The same thing that happened to my first one.”

She looked at him, sighed, shook her head, and walked over to the closet.

“Open,” she muttered.

Nothing happened.

“Open,” she repeated.

Still nothing.

“Damn! It’s on the blink. If I had anything to put in it, I’d call the desk and complain.”

“Just a minute,” said Terwilliger. “I’ve seen one of these before.”

He walked up to the ornate door and reached his hand straight through it.

“What the hell did you do?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he answered. “There’s no door here. It’s a holographic projection.” He smiled and pointed to a pair of well-camouflaged holo lenses. “It’s cheaper than actually installing a hand-carved door like that, and once you get used to it it’s more convenient, too. And,” he added, “you get to redecorate for the cost of a couple of new image tapes.”

“How much else is fake, I wonder?” said Virtue, pacing around the room and touching various objects. “Just the closet door, I guess,” she concluded.

“Try the bathroom,” he suggested.

She walked to the door, tried to pass through it, and bounced off.

“I didn’t mean the door,” he said, ordering it to open. “But I’ll bet you credits to pebbles that those gold-spun curtains around the dryshower aren’t really there.”

“A dryshower?” she said irritably. “Shit! I was planning to take a long hot bath tonight.”

“On a desert world?” he said. “Hell, I’ll bet even their suites don’t supply any water except from the drinking tap.”

“Oh, well,” she said, returning to the bedroom and walking to one of the chairs. “We might as well relax and wait for the Angel.”