“Suits me,” assented Terwilliger, sitting down opposite her. He pulled out his cards and began shuffling them on the table. “Care for a little game of chance?”

“No, thanks.”

“You’re sure?”

“If you played games of chance instead of games with predetermined results, you wouldn’t be hiding here right now,” she replied.

“You can deal,” he offered.

“Blackjack,” she said promptly, taking the cards from him. “Ten credits a hand. Dealer wins all ties.”

“Fine—as long as you’ll accept my IOUs if I lose.”

“You can play with Cain’s money,” she said. “After all, we’re all partners, so we’ll be keeping it in the family, so to speak.”

“What the hell,” he said with a shrug. “Why not?”

They played for almost two hours, during which time Terwilliger won four hundred credits without ever once being allowed to deal. Finally Virtue looked out the window, handed the deck back to him, pulled four hundred-credit notes out of her satchel, placed them on the table, and got to her feet.

“It’s just about time,” she said.

“Why don’t you meet him and bring him back up here?” suggested Terwilliger nervously.

“What if he’s been delayed and I bump into your friend first?” she replied. “Do you really want to be stuck up here in a room that has only one exit?”

“You’ve got a point,” he admitted begrudgingly, following her to the door.

They descended to the lobby, which was considerably more crowded as dinnertime approached, and Virtue quickly scanned the faces that were assembled there.

“Is he here yet?” asked the gambler.

“No.”

“Then what do we do?”

“We wait,” she said.

“What if somebody has killed him?” asked Terwilliger, a blind panic starting to overwhelm him.

“If someone has killed the Angel, you’d better get down on your knees and start saying your prayers,” said Virtue, “because I guarantee you that Judgment Day is at hand. Now stop shaking, and try not to wet your pants.”

Terwilliger was too busy peering through the lobby windows into the darkened street beyond to make any reply.

“You can relax now,” said Virtue a moment later as the Angel walked through the doorway. “He’s arrived.”

Terwilliger exhaled loudly with relief, and she wondered idly just how long he had been holding his breath.

“Did you learn anything useful?” she asked as the Angel crossed the lobby and approached her.

“A bit,” he said noncommittally. “I’ll have to see one more man tomorrow.” He paused. “Who’s your friend?”

“Halfpenny Terwilliger.”

“Is he the one I spotted at the spaceport?”

“Yes. He works for Sebastian Cain.”

The Angel stared at Terwilliger and said nothing.

“Well, actually, that’s not an operative statement,” said the gambler nervously. “My services are currently on the open market.”

“Good luck with them,” said the Angel. “Now go away.”

“What?” demanded Terwilliger.