"Probably sneaked into one of the
alleys. Did you see where he went, Cargill?"
I came slowly back to the gateway. To me, it had seemed that he ducked
into the street-shrine and vanished into thin air, but I've lived on
Wolf long enough to know you can't trust your eyes here. I said so, and
the kid swore again, gulping, more upset than he wanted to admit. "Does
this kind of thing happen often?"
"All the time," his companion assured him soberly, with a sidewise wink
at me. I didn't return the wink.
The kid wouldn't let it drop. "Where did you learn their lingo, Mr.
Cargill?"
"I've been on Wolf a long time," I said, spun on my heel and walked
toward Headquarters. I tried not to hear, but their voices followed me
anyhow, discreetly lowered, but not lowered enough.
"Kid, don't you know who he is? That's Cargill of the Secret Service!
Six years ago he was the best man in Intelligence, before--" The voice
lowered another decibel, and then there was the kid's voice asking,
shaken, "But what the hell happened to his face?"
I should have been used to it by now.
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