“I realize that absolutely no one uses cash anymore in the heart of the Democracy,” said Stern, “but it has such a nice feel to it that I’m glad we still indulge ourselves out here in the extremities.” He quickly counted the bills, then signaled to a fail, who came over and took them from him.

“Hold these for me, my pretty,” he said, then nodded his head and watched her as she walked back to her position with an inhuman grace. “Lovely things!” he murmured. “Absolutely lovely!”

“We were talking about Santiago....”

“Indeed we were,” said Stern, turning reluctantly from the fali and facing Cain once again. “I promise to give it my full attention. For fifteen thousand credits, you deserve no less.”

“My feelings precisely.”

“Now, where shall I begin? At the beginning, of course. I was serving a certain amount of time in durance vile on the outpost world of Kalami Three for some imagined infringement of the local laws or customs.”

“Robbery?” suggested Cain.

“Receiving stolen goods and attempted murder, in point of fact,” replied Stern with no hint of regret. “At any rate, the only other prisoner at the time was a man who went under the name of Gregory William Penn. He was between forty and fifty years of age, he stood about six feet four inches tall, he was heavyset without being fat, his hair was black and his eyes brown, his face was clean-shaven. He spoke at least six alien languages—or so he informed me. I, myself, speak none, nor”—he smiled at the fali—”have I ever had any need to. On the back of his right hand he bore an S-shaped scar some two inches long. He seemed, overall, a pleasant and intelligent man. He didn’t speak about himself or his past at all, but he proved to be an excellent chess player with a set that we borrowed from our captors.”

“How do you know it was Santiago?”

“We had shared the hospitality of the Kalami jail for eleven days when suddenly five armed men broke in, subdued and bound the individual charged with our care, and set my fellow prisoner free. They were very thorough about wiping the prison’s computer clean, and I later found out they had done the same over in the courtroom. Then, just as they were leaving, one of them called him Santiago.”

“If that’s your whole story, I want my money back,” said Cain. “There’s probably a thousand petty crooks on the Frontier who would like people to think they’re Santiago—and if the prison records have been destroyed, you can’t even prove that this one existed, let alone that he was who he said he was.”

“Be patient, Mr. Cain,” said Stern easily. “There’s more.”

“There’d damned well better be. How long ago did this little incident take place?”

“Seventeen Galactic Standard years. I bribed my way out about six months later.”