"Back it right in, Buster!" The woman's voice was harsh. "You're not the one I want, but right now I'm not too choosey." Henderson swallowed. He took a few backward steps. Then a few more. He watched the woman's shoulder nudge the lock shut. He watched her come toward him. "That's far enough. Where is he? Where's Artie Sterling?" Henderson didn't say anything. The woman's skin. White. Prison white. He knew. The woman saw the heat gun on the table. She smiled, not amused, and picked it up. That made two guns leveled at Henderson. "What I couldn't do with these. All right, where is he?" But he didn't answer. Adjustment is a method thing. The woman rapped: "Look, I got the word. They said I'd find my husband with somebody's wife. Here. At 327 Residential. That jar your memory?" It seemed to. Henderson said softly: "Your husband?" "Yeah. Up here with a guy's wife. How do you like that? There ain't enough unmated kids around, he wants the married ones, too." "He isn't here." "Huh?" a little admiration lit up the woman's eyes. "Look, guy, you got guts. I'll hand you that. But tonight I ran across another who had guts too. You oughta see him now." There was a silence then. You take away the sounds and there are always silences. And then: "The guy's my husband, see? And once there was a time when I loved him. I loved him hard enough to figure he'd appreciate a little loyalty. I did five long years for that mistake. There was this woman--even then he had them, it seems--and I had the silly notion she was chasing him, instead of the other way around. So she died a little. And I did five years like I said. Can't you tell? Can't you see it on me?" Henderson nodded. "Sure. White, I am. You get that way after five years. Where is he?" The woman bared teeth. "Can't figure it, huh? Look, even in prison you get to hear things. Like I heard about him hanging out the 'business-as-usual' sign all the years I was inside. With the woman, I mean. Do you think he ever came to see me? Do you think he sent me letters? Post cards even?" "All right. Yes, he was here. He isn't here now." "Where is he?" Henderson sighed. He looked into the guns in the woman's hands. "Did you ever hear of Jao?" "Sure. Gambling city. Down south." "Yes. And did you ever hear of Sarah Henderson?" "No." "My wife." He said it simply. It took a few moments but the woman got it. She began to nod, began to get the comprehension in her stark eyes. She said after a little while: "I see, guy. I know how you feel. Is that what you had the gun out for? Uh huh. I can feel for you, believe me. Look. Yu got a can?" "What?" "Crate. Ship. 'Copter." Another silence. "Look. There's one outside. I saw it when I got off the spacelators. I'm going to sort of borrow it for a while. I've been doing it for weeks now chasing that bum all over the planet. So one more won't matter. I'm heading for Jao. Security will get it back for you. All I want is a little time."