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activated his communicator. “Pandora?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œThat’s the only Antares Six ship in the port, right?”
    â€œRight,” she answered.
    â€œOkay,” he said. “Have the computer locate the ones that aren’t on the ship.”
    â€œWorking on it.”
    After a minute he spoke again. “It’s taking a while.”
    â€œTheir physiology is very similar to natives of Antares Two and Three,” she replied. “I don’t want to send you into the wrong den of iniquity.” There was a brief pause. “Okay, got ’em. They’re in . . . damn, I can’t translate or decipher the name. Walk to the first cross street. I’ll keep the channel open.”
    Pretorius and his crew followed her instructions.
    â€œNow look to your left,” she continued. “Do you see a building, on the far side of the street, maybe thirty meters from you?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œHas it got a door wide enough to accommodate you and Felix entering side by side?”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œOkay, that’s the spot.”
    â€œThanks. Over and out.” Pretorius put his device back into a pocket. “You heard her,” he said. “That’s the joint.”
    â€œHow do you want to handle this?” asked Ortega.
    â€œWe’ll kill them,” said Pretorius, “but I’d much prefer not do it in front of the population if we don’t have to. No sense alerting the locals, or having one of them contact the ship we want.”
    â€œThen why are we here at all?”
    â€œThere’s a difference between killing them and neutralizing them,” answered Pretorius. He turned and stared at Proto. “Damn, you look real! I wish to hell you could speak their lingo.” He continued staring, his brow furrowed. “Well, we might as well try to do it without killing them all. Proto, lose your lower jaw.” The jaw vanished. “No, not totally. As if you’d been shot there. Not recently. An old war wound. It blew away part of your jaw and crushed the rest, so no one can reasonably expect you to speak clearly.”
    â€œThen why am I still in uniform?” asked Proto as he made the adjustments Pretorius had asked for.
    â€œMaybe you’re a scientist or an engineer. It doesn’t matter. They can’t question you, because you can’t answer them.” He began walking to the side of the building. “This place got a back entrance?”
    â€œIt must have,” said Circe.
    â€œOkay. Felix, go around back and wait there. When they finally come out, put them all out of commission, swiftly and silently.”
    â€œRight,” said Ortega, heading off.
    Pretorius turned to Proto. “I’m going in with Circe and Irish first. It wouldn’t do for us to be seen as your companions, even in the Neutral Zone.” Proto nodded his head in agreement. “I still don’t know if it’s a bar or a restaurant, not that it really matters. Give us a minute to get settled at a table, then come in, hunt up our Antareans, act distressed, and signal them to follow you out the back door, as if there’s something there you want them to see.”
    â€œI have a thought,” said Proto. “Won’t it work better if I enter from the back, as if I’ve just seen whatever it is I want them to see?”
    â€œI like that!” said Pretorius. “Much better idea. Felix will know it’s you because of the uniform. If there’s any doubt, talk to him in Terran. He knows the sound of your voice.”
    â€œRight,” said Proto, heading off.
    â€œAnd give us a minute or two to get settled.”
    â€œWhy, if you’re not coming out back with or after them?” asked Proto.
    â€œBecause I want Circe there when you try to get them to follow you,” answered Pretorius. “If there’s any chance that they’re not buying it, or that they see