Canis glanced at him, frowning, but stepped forward and hoisted two valises onto the counter. Dar opened them and passed them to Sam and the Reverend, who each began shuffling through the stacks of paper-thin garments in a half of each bag. Dar couldn’t detect anything being removed but, when Sam closed the bag, set it upright on the counter, and turned to nod to Dar, there was a very meaningful look in her eye.

Dar made a mental note that she was a sleight-of-hand artist, too, and never to play poker with her; but he also started making very definite plans to start playing some other game with her as soon as he could maneuver her into it. He opened the next suitcase and passed it on.

They were quick, she and the Reverend; but there were a lot of bags, and the time stretched out. The aides began to mutter and grumble to one another, but Bhelabher stood rock-still, legs apart, hands clasped in front of him; and Canis stood like a malevolent statue at his side—or a ventriloquist’s mannequin, Dar thought. He wondered which one was really doing the talking.

Finally Sam closed the last case and gave him the nod. Dar turned to Bhelabher with a smile. “All done, Honorable.”

“Thank you,” Bhelabher said sourly. “I assume we now have the freedom of the planet?”

“Uh—I’m sorry, Honorable.” Dar looked up in surprise. “I thought I’d made that clear.”

“Clear? How so?” There was an ominous rumble under Bhelabher’s voice.

“Your credentials,” Dar explained. “We can’t admit you officially until they’ve been verified with Government House. We should have them back to you in twenty-four hours, though.”

“Twenty-four hours!”

“If General Shacklar has the lock-code for your documents. Longer, if he doesn’t. But I’m sure he will.”

There was a moment’s silence while Bhelabher’s face puffed up and passed magenta.

Dar braced himself.

Then the Honorable erupted. Dar leaned into the blast and listened closely; he was always out to improve his vocabulary. He wasn’t sure what half the words meant; but he did get the impression that:

1) the Honorable was somewhat distressed by this turn of events;

2) the delay was totally unacceptable;

3) there was obviously a conspiracy afoot to prevent his assuming his rightful post; and that

4) he thought Dar’s hide would make an excellent ornament for his new office, nailed to the wall and tastefully decorated with a carefully balanced pattern of intersecting whip-welts.

When Bhelabher ran down, Dar glanced at Sam, who whipped out a pad and jotted down a few lines.

“Your protest is noted,” Dar said with a small, polite smile, “but I’m afraid that’s all we can do about it. Regulations are regulations, Honorable. I’m sure you understand.”

Bhelabher took a breath, but the sergeant cleared his throat rather loudly and transferred his blaster rifle from his left shoulder to his right. Bhelabher paused in mid-gasp, glanced at the soldier out of the corner of his eye, then slowly closed his mouth and turned back to Dar. “Of course. Quite. I trust you have accommodations for myself and my staff while we endure this outrage?”

“Not here at the port,” Dar admitted. “But there are some transient facilities in town. The sergeant will show you the route—and stay nearby, in case you should need anything.”

“Solely for our convenience,” Bhelabher said dryly. “Surely.”

He turned to survey his staff. “Well … there seems to be no help for it. I see now how badly this poor, benighted colony needs our ministrations, good people. However, until we have an opportunity to streamline this laughable attempt at a bureaucracy, I’m afraid we’ll have to endure some inconvenience. Please be patient.” He started toward the door.

The corporal stepped over and opened it for him. Bhelabher paused in the doorway to look back at Dar. “You haven’t heard the last of me, young man—be sure of it.”

“But you have heard the last of us,” Dar said as the door closed behind the last aide, “and your credentials.”

“Right here.” Sam started piling wafers on the countertop.

“You’re really good at that, y’ know?” Dar yanked off his beret. “I didn’t know BOA trained pickpockets.”

“Just a difference in emphasis,” Sam said. “Besides, I wouldn’t have known what to do without the Reverend. He knew right where to look in each bag.”

“Yeah—thanks, Reverend.” Dar started peeling out of his tunic. “We couldn’t have brought it off without you.”

“The Power favored me,” Haldane said modestly. “I wish you luck, Dar Mandra. This will be, at most, an inconvenience to him.”

“Well, I’m hoping for more—but you’re right; it’s only a delaying tactic. And he might not be delayed very long in getting Shacklar out here.” He pulled on his coverall and turned to Sam. “Better change. We’ve gotta get out of here, fast.”

The glass chattered on the table, and Dar looked up. “I could swear I heard a dull boom.”

“Ayuh.” Cholly tilted his head to the side. “I’d almost think I had, too. Queer; ain’t it?”

“Right on the borderline between hearing and feeling.” Sam turned to Dar “Either it was very soft, or very far away.”

“Soldiers don’t go in for target practice much.” Dar turned to Cholly. “Anybody sell some Wolmen a cannon?”

“Only the parts—and they haven’t got the button yet.”

“Must’ve been a natural phenomenon.” Dar tossed back the rest of his beer and set the glass down. “How long do you think it’ll take ‘em to realize we, ah, ‘confiscated’ all the copies of their credentials?”

“About as long as it takes them to find a hotel room—and I expect yer friend the sergeant’ll lead ‘em the long way ‘round the barn.”

“If I know him, he’ll take ‘em by way of the back pasture—which is where Bhelabher belongs, anyway. The man’s got all the tact of a barbell.” Dar turned to Sam. “How’d a blusterer like that get promoted to governor, anyway?”

“They couldn’t fire him,” she explained. “He had too much seniority. So they had to kick him up to where he couldn’t do any harm—to his bosses, anyway.”

“No harm? What was he beforehand, a general?”

“Chief filing clerk.” Sam shrugged. “Sorry, Dar, but that’s the way they see it. Gossip said he’d caused three rebellions by putting the right document in the wrong place.”

“Perfect.” Dar held out his glass for a refill. “Not even as important as a pile of molecudots.”

“To them, you are a molecudot.”

The door bonged, and a man in a very ornate jumpsuit came in, grinning from ear to ear.

“You’re off early today, Corve.” Cholly reached for a bottle and glass.

“Bit of a frumus today.” Corve adjusted himself to a barstool and accepted the glass. “Boss decided to give everybody the day off and let the new guests shift fer themselves.”

“That flock of civvies?” Dar managed mild interest. “Where they in from, anyway?”

“Terra, ‘seems.” Corve took a gulp or two. “Their boss claims he’s the new governor.”

“New governor?” Dar frowned. “What for? We’ve got Shacklar!”

“And we’d best find a way to keep him, from the looks of this one.”

“Now, Corve, that’s not fer you to say,” Cholly reproved him. “You just holds the door at the hotel.”

“Ayuh, but I’m not on duty now.” Corve turned to Dar. “It’s name’s Bhelabher, an’ its brain’s in its mouth.”

“Just what we need to consolidate Wolman relations,” Dar said dryly. “Is he the new gov?”

“Dunno; he can’t find his papers.” Corve grinned wolfishly. “Hadn’t but scarcely found his rooms when he let out a roar like a ship trying to land without jets; I swear he shook the whole hotel.”

Dar looked up at Cholly. “Kind of an explosion, huh? Or a cannon? The chemical kind, I mean.”

“Heard him all the way down here, eh? Well, can’t say as I’m surprised. I thought of luggage-bombs, myself. But no, he came storming back into the lobby with his whole flock at his heels. ‘There’s thieves in this hotel!’ he cries. ‘They’ve rifled all our luggage!’ Well, I don’t doubt the boss was thinking of rifling him—but no, he kept his face polite, and says, ‘There are no guests in this hotel today but you and yours; and as for me and mine, why, I stayed here at the desk, the maid’s having her batteries charged, and the staff’s there by the door, ready to hold it for you.’ Well, Bhelabher, he started up some deal of nonsense about how dumb it is to have a hotel with so small a staff to blame things on, but his top aide … face kinda like a rat …”