That, however, was not a serious problem; a number of his Olathe network owed him enough that he could call on them even for such a service. It would take DarLowrie perhaps a week to reach Olathe, another week and a half to get to Nippon-Ni; that would give Owajima time to make adequate preparations, then visit with his family for several days. He smiled to himself, transmitted the necessary messages, and returned his attention to his immediate mission. * * * * * Nevan entered the Lucky Bull, a medium-priced bar near the Olathe City spaceport, and ordered a glass of chocolate milk before finding a table near the rear of the main room. In the early days after Annexation, he'd heard, bars had carried alcoholic beverages almost exclusively, and Sandemans were made fun of for drinking only the non-alcoholic variety, but by the time he'd started frequenting bars as an excellent source of information, the sweet high-energy beverages Sandemans preferred were as normal as alcohol. If he had Owajima figured correctly, someone at one of his last two or three stops should have been in his target's network, and contacted him. Even if, as Nevan thought probable, Owajima was working on the Bracei case, he'd make time to have a presumed assassin investigated. That was why Nevan had made no secret of his last destinations, following his flight plans precisely as he'd filed them. That, and the fact that a Sandeman hired killer shouldn't display the subtleties and precautions that would mark him as having had Imperial training of any sort, particularly a field agent's training; the two simply didn't go together. A tall man in Marine service dress with captain's bars approached Nevan's table, carrying a drink. "Mind if I join you, warrior?" he asked. "If you wish, Captain." The other sat, looking him over; Nevan returned the scrutiny, waiting. "I'm Kim Johansen, of SecuDiv," the Marine said at last. "You're Vance DarLowrie, just in on the Last Resort?" Nevan nodded. "I am, Captain Johansen. What of it?" "If you're what rumor calls you and your ship's name implies, I'd advise you to lay low. The Baron here takes a dim view of assassins." "Most people do, except those who have need of one. I thank you for your concern, though; I will be careful." "Good." Johansen sipped at his drink, frowned. "A warrior of your clan saved my life during the war. I feel a certain obligation to repay that debt, even if I don't particularly approve of your occupation myself." "There's no proof I'm what you guess." "The fact you don't deny it will be enough for most." Johansen showed brief distaste, swallowed the rest of his drink, and rose. "I can't wish you luck, since that'd mean wishing someone else dead. But I can wish it for your clan, and I do."