Now she was footsore and there was still a nighttime at Epcot in her future. The barman passed her the pineapple and she thumped her lanyard against the bar twice -- once to pay for the drink and once to give him a generous tip. He was gay as a goose, but fun to look at, and he flirted with her for kicks. "Gentleman caller for you, Suzanne," he said, tilting his head. "You temptress." She looked in the direction indicated and took in the man sitting on the bar-stool. He didn't have the look of a harried dad and he was too old to be a love-flushed honeymooner. In sensible tropical-weight slacks and a western shirt, he was impossible to place. He smiled and gave her a little wave. "What?" "He came in an hour ago and asked for you." She looked back at the man. "What's your take on him?" "I think he works here. He didn't pay with an employee card, but he acted like it." "OK," she said, "send out a search party if I'm not back in an hour." "Go get him, tiger," the barman said, giving her hand a squeeze. She carried her pineapple with her and drifted down the bar. "Hello there," she said. "Ms Church," the man said. He had a disarming, confident smile. "My name is Sammy Page." She knew the name, of course. The face, too, now that she thought about it. He offered her his hand. She didn't take it. He put it down, then wiped it on his trouser-leg. "Are you having a good time?" "A lovely time, thank you." She sipped her drink and wished it was a little more serious and intimidating. It's hard to do frosty when you're holding a rum-filled pineapple with a paper parasol. His smile faltered. "I read your article. I can't believe I missed it. I mean, you've been here for six days and I just figured it out today? I'm a pretty incompetent villain." She let a little smile slip out at that. "Well, it's a big Internet." "But I *love* your stuff. I've been reading it since, well, back when I lived in the Valley. I used to get the Merc actually delivered on paper." "You are a walking fossil, aren't you?" He bobbed his head. "So it comes down to this. I've been very distracted with making things besides lawsuits lately, as you know. I've been putting my energy into doing stuff, not preventing stuff. It's been refreshing." She grubbed in her pocket and came up with a little steno book and a pencil. "Do you mind if I take notes?" He gulped. "Can this all be on background?" She hefted her notebook. "No," she said finally. "If there's anything that needs publishing, I'm going to have to publish it. I can respect the fact that you're speaking to me with candor, but frankly, Mr Page, you haven't earned the privilege of speaking on background."