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t。 〃Doesn't leave much time for preflight checks。〃
〃The ship's all ready to go；〃 he reminded me。
〃We check it anyway before we fly；〃 I told him。 〃That's what 'preflight' means。 What about clearances？〃
〃All set；〃 he said； tapping his tunic。 〃I've got the papers right here。〃
〃Let me see them。〃
He shook his head。 〃That's not necessary。 I'll be aboard well before…〃
〃Let me see them。〃
For a second he had the expression of someone who was seriously considering standing up and going to look for a pilot with a better grasp of the proper servility involved in an owner/employee relationship。 But he merely dug into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a thin stack of cards。 Maybe he liked my spirit； or maybe he was just running out of time to find someone to fly his ship for him。
I leafed through them。 The papers were for a modified Orion…class freighter called the Icarus； Earth registry； mastership listed as one Alexander Borodin。 They were also copies； not the originals he'd implied he was carrying。 〃You Borodin？〃 I asked。
〃That's right；〃 he said。 〃As you see； everything's in order for a morning lift。〃
〃Certainly looks that way；〃 I agreed。 All the required checks had been done： engine room； thrusters and stardrive； puter； cargo customs…
I frowned。 〃What's this 'sealed cargo section' business？〃
〃Just what it says；〃 he told me。 〃The cargo hold is situated in the aft…center section of the ship； and was sealed on Gamm against all entry or inspection。 The Gamm port authority license is there。〃
〃Came in from Gamm； did you？〃 I mented； finding the license on the next card down。 〃Quiet little place。〃
〃Yes。 A bit primitive； though。〃
〃It is that；〃 I agreed； stacking the cards together again。 I glanced at the top card again； making careful note of the lift and clearance codes that had been assigned to the Icarus； and handed them back across the table。 〃All right； you've got yourself a captain。 What's the up…front pay？〃
〃One thousand marks；〃 he said。 〃Payable on your arrival at the ship in the morning。 Another two thousand once we make Earth。 It's all I can afford；〃 he added； a bit defensively。
Three thousand in all； for a job that would probably take five or six weeks to plete。 I certainly wasn't going to get rich on that kind of pay； but I probably wouldn't starve； either。 Provided he picked up the fuel and port duty fees along the way； of course。 For a moment I thought about trying to bargain him up； but the look on his face implied it would be a waste of time。 〃Fine；〃 I said。 〃You have a tag for me？〃
〃Right here；〃 he said； rummaging around inside his jacket again； his expression twitching briefly with surprise that I had not； in fact； tried to squeeze him for more money as he'd obviously expected me to do。 Briefly； I wondered which direction that had moved his opinion of me； but gave up the exercise as both unprofitable and irrelevant。
His probing hand found what it was looking for； and emerged holding a three…by…seven…centimeter plastic tag covered with colored dots。 Another Ihmis quirk； this one their refusal to number or in any other way differentiate the two hundred…odd landing squares at their spaceport。 The only way to find a particular ship…or a particular service center or customs office or supply depot； for that matter…was to have one of these handy little tags on you。 Slid into the transparent ID slot in a landing jacket collar； the tag's dot code would be read by sensors set up at each intersection； whereupon walk…mounted guidelights would point the befuddled wearer in the proper direction。 It made for rather protracted travel sometimes； but the Ihmisits liked it and it wasn't much more than a minor inconvenience for anyone else。 My assumption had always been that someone's brother…in…law owned the tag…making concession。 〃Anything else you need to know？〃
I cocked an eyebrow at him as I slid the tag into my collar slot in front of the one keyed to guide me back to the Stormy Banks。 〃Why？ You in a hurry？〃
〃I have one or two other things yet to do tonight； yes；〃 he said as he set down his cup and stood up； 〃Good evening； Captain McKell。 I'll see you tomorrow morning。〃
〃I'll be there。〃 I nodded。
He nodded back and headed across the taverno； maneuvering through the maze of tables and the occasional wandering customer； and disappeared through the door。 I took a sip of my vodkaline； counted to twenty； and headed off after him。
I didn't want to look like I was hurrying； and as a result it took me maybe half a minute longer to get across the taverno than it had taken him。 But that was all right。 There were a lot of spacers roaming the streets out there； but the overhead lights outside were pretty good； and with all that white hair he should be easy enough to spot and follow。 Pushing open the door； I stepped out into the cool night air。
I had forgotten about the Yavanni。 They hadn't forgotten about me。
They were waiting near the entrance； partly concealed behind one of the decorative glass entryway windbreaks that stuck a meter outward from the wall on either side of the door itself。 Recognizing a particular alien is always a dicey proposition； but obviously this bunch had mastered the technique。 Even as I stepped out from the shelter of the windbreaks； they began moving purposefully toward me； the one in front showing a noticeable forward slouch。
I had to do something； and I had to do it fast。 They'd abandoned their previous territorial game…that much was obvious from the way they bunched together as they moved confidently toward me。 I'd shamed them in front of the whole taverno； and what they undoubtedly had in mind was a plete demonstration as to why that had been a bad decision on my part。 I thought about digging inside my jacket for my gun； realized instantly that any such move would be suicide； thought about ducking back into the taverno； realized that would do nothing but postpone the confrontation。
Which left me only one real option。 Bracing myself； I took a quick step partway back into the windbreak； turned ninety degrees to my left； and kicked backward as hard as I could with my right foot。
In most other places windbreaks like these were made out of a highly resilient plastic。 The Vyssiluyas preferred glass…tough glass； to be sure； but glass nonetheless。 With three angry Yavanni lumbering toward me I was understandably in no mood for half measures； and the force of the kick seemed to shoot straight through my spine to the top of my head。 But I achieved the desired result： the glass panel blew out； scattering a hundred pieces across the landscape。
I caught my balance and jumped backward through the now mostly empty box frame。 A large wedge of jagged glass that was still hanging tentatively onto the side of the frame scraped at my jacket as I went through。 Trying to avoid slicing my fingers on the edges； I got a grip on it and broke it free。 Brandishing it like a makeshift knife； I jabbed at the Yavanni。
The Yavanne in front stopped short； generating a brief bit of vaguely edic confusion as the other two bumped into him。 For all their bulk and aggressiveness； Yavanni are remarkably sensitive to the sight of their own blood； and the thought of ch