“Alliance marshals?” The unsavory-looking man eyed them with skepticism. “You sure don’t look it.”

“But appearances can be, and often are, deceiving,” Weldon said, putting the badge away. He looked around at the compound significantly. “I take it that you are familiar with that concept, merchant?”

Mr. Grant bared his teeth in a snarl, and Weldon could read exactly what the slaver was thinking. He and Crocker did not look so dangerous—at first glance, they were no match for the firepower assembled in the compound. But how many people knew they had come here? Who would investigate their disappearance?

Slavery was a disgusting business, of course. To sell people like so much meat, with no thought for the true potential in their genes… Sickening. With the ever-growing numbers of humanity, though, the waste of a few was low on the Company’s list of priorities. And Weldon and Crocker were authorized to use any measures they required to complete their assignment as quickly and efficiently as possible.

“We have no interest in the disruption of legitimate businesses such as your own,” he told Grant. “We are on a manhunt for three specific individuals, and we have reason to believe that they passed through here recently. If you can help us track them further, we will go on our way and leave you to whatever business it is you wish to conduct.” He left the threat of the alternative clear in his voice. It was a calculated risk. Grant might react badly to the threat, but without it there was little hope of friendly cooperation at all.

Crocker deactivated his Device, retracting its sensitive cerebral resonators back into its main rod. He shook his head. “She’s not here. The Device doesn’t pick up any resonation at all.”

“Disappointing, but no less than expected.”

“Yes.”

“What?” Grant shook his head. “Whatever. You getting out of my hair if help you? Then show me some pictures. I really don’t have time for any distractions right now.

“I can imagine,” said Crocker, looking around the compound meaningfully. “Would you car