"I'm sorry, sir. I fell into bad company."

"Excuses again. Reverend, what in hell are we going to do? That bastich will space us before bedtime."

"That thought occurred to me. Here, try this on for size." From somewhere about his ample person he produced a fez.

I tried it on. "Fits well enough."

"And now this."

It was a black velvet eyepatch on elastic. I slipped it on, decided that I did not like having one eye covered, but did not say so. Papa Schultz had obviously put effort and imagination into trying to keep me from breathing vacuum.

Gwen exclaimed, "Oh, goodness! That does it!"

"Yes," agreed Dr. Schultz. "An eyepatch draws the attention of most observers so strongly that it takes a conscious effort of will to see the features. I always keep one on hand. That fez and the presence of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine was a happy coincidence."

"You had a fez on hand?"

"Not exactly. It does have a former owner. When he wakes up, he may miss it... but I do not think he will wake up soon. Uh, my friend Mickey Finn is taking care of him. But you might avoid any Shriners from Temple Al Mizar. Their accents may help; they are from Alabama."

"Doctor, I'll avoid all Shriners as much as I can; I think I should board at the last minute. But what about Gwen?"

The Reverend Doctor produced another fez. 'Try it, dear lady."

Gwen tried it on. It tended to fit down over her like a candle snuffer. She lifted it off. "I don't think it does a thing for me; it's not right for my complexion. What do you think?"

"I'm afraid you're right."

I said, "Doctor, Shriners are twice as big as Gwen in all directions and they bulge in different places. It will have to be something else. Grease paint?"

Schultz shook his head. "Grease paint always looks like grease paint."

"That's a very bad likeness of her on the terminal. Nobody could recognize her from that."

"Thank you, my love. Unfortunately there are a good many people in Golden Rule who do know what I look like... and just one of them at the boarding lock tonight could lower my life expectancy drastically. Hmm. With just a little effort and no grease paint I could look my right age. Papa Schultz?"

"What is your right age, dear lady?"

She glanced at me, then stood on tiptoes and whispered in Dr. Schultz's ear. He looked surprised. "I don't believe it. And, no, it won't work. We need something better."

Mrs. Kondo spoke quickly to her husband; he looked suddenly alert; they exchanged some fast chatter in what had to be Japanese. He shifted to English. "May I, please? My wife has pointed out that Mistress Gwen is the same size, very nearly, as our daughter Naomi-and, in any case, kimonos are quite flexible."

Gwen stopped smiling. "It's an idea-and I thank you both. But I don't look Nipponese. My nose. My eyes. My skin."

There was some more batting around of that fast but long-winded language, three-comered this time. Then Gwen said, "This could extend my life. So please excuse me." She left with Mama-San.

Kondo went back into his main room-there had been lights asking for service for several minutes; he had ignored them. I said to the good Doctor, "You have already extended our lives, simply by enabling us to take refuge with Tiger Kondo. But do you think we can carry this off long enough to board the shuttle?"

"I hope so. What more can I say?"

"Nothing, I guess."

Papa Schultz dug into a pocket. "I found opportunity to get you a tourist card from the gentleman who lent you that fez ... and I have removed his name. What name should go on it? It can't be 'Ames' of course-but what?"

"Oh. Gwen reserved space for us. Bought tickets."

"By your right names?"

"I'm not certain."

"I do hope not. If she used Ames' and 'Novak' the best you can hope for is to try to be first in line for no-shows. But I had better hurry to the ticket counter and get reservations for you as 'Johnson' and-"

"Doc."

"Please? On the next shuttle if this one is booked solid."

"You can't. You make reservations for us and-phtt! You're spaced. It may take them till tomorrow to figure it out. But they will."

"But-"

"Let's wait and see just what Gwen did. If they aren't back in five minutes, I'll ask Mr. Kondo to dig them out."

A few minutes later a lady came in. Father Schultz bowed and said, "You're Naomi. Or are you Yumiko? Good to see you again, anyhow."

The little thing giggled and sucked air and bowed from the waist. She looked like a doll-fancy kimono, little silk slippers, flat white makeup, an incredible Japanese hairdo. She answered, "Ichiban geisha girr is awr. My Ingris are serdom."

"Gwen!" I said.

"Prease?"

"Gwen, it's wonderful! But tell us, fast, the names you used in making our reservations."

"Ames and Novak. To match our passports."

"That tears it. What'll we do. Doc?"

Gwen looked back and forth between us. "Pray tell me the difficulty?"

I explained. "So we go to the gate, each of us well disguised-and show reservations for Ames and Novak. Curtain. No flowers."

"Richard, I didn't quite tell you everything."

"Gwendolyn, you never do quite tell everything. More Lim-burger?"

"No, dear. I saw that it might turn out this way. Well, I suppose you could say that I wasted quite a lot of money. But I- Uh, after I bought our tickets-tickets we can't use now and arc wasted-I went to Rental Row and put a deposit on a U-Pushit. A Volvo Flyabout."

Schultz said, "Under what name?"

I said, "How much?"

"I used my right name-"

Schultz said, "God help us!"

"Just a moment, sir. My right name is Sadie Lipschitz... and only Richard knows it. And now you. Please keep it to yourself, as I don't like it. As Sadie Lipschitz I reserved the Volvo for my employer. Senator Richard Johnson, and placed a deposit. Six thousand crowns."

I whistled. "For a Volvo? Sounds like you bought it."

"I did buy it, dear; I had to. Both rental and deposit had to be cash because I didn't have a credit card. Oh, I do have; I have enough cards to play solitaire. But Sadie Lipschitz has no credit. So I had to pay six thousand down simply to reserve it-to rent it but on a purchase contract. I tried to get him down a bit but with all the Shriners in town he was sure he could move it."

"Probably right."

"I think so. If we take it, we still have to complete payment on the full list price, another nineteen thousand crowns-"

"My God!"

"-plus insurance and squeeze. But we get the unused balance back if we turn it in here, or Luna City, or Hong Kong Luna, in thirty days. Mr. Dockweiler explained the reason for the purchase contract. Asteroid miners, or boomers rather, had been hiring cars without putting up the full price, taking them to some hideout on Luna, and refitting them for mining."

"A Volvo? The only way you could get a Volvo to the asteroids would be by shipping it in the hold of a Hanshaw. But nineteen-no, twenty-five thousand crowns. Plus insurance and graft. Bald, stark robbery."

Schultz said to me rather sharply, "Friend Ames, I suggest that you stop behaving like the fabled Scotsman faced by a coin-operated refresher. Do you accept what Mrs. Ames could arrange? Or do you prefer die Manager's fresh-air route? Fresh- but thin."

I took a deep breath. "Sorry. You're right, I can't breathe money. I just hate to get clipped. Gwen, I apologize. All right where is Hertz from here? I'm disoriented."

"Not Hertz, dear. Budget Jets. Hertz did not have a unit ten."