"Excuse me, do you belong to the Legion company?"

            Flight Leftenant Qual looked up at the two humans. "Most assuredly," he said. "It gives me great satisfaction to affiliate myself with the notorious band of Captain Clown."

            The taller human-Qual had trouble telling them apart, they were so similar-said, "It is the captain we need to ask you about. I am Special Agent Peele, and this is my partner, Special Agent Hull." He showed an identification card that meant nothing to Qual, although the Zenobian could see that the holo on the card matched the face in front of him.

            "You may ask as you wish," said Qual, displaying his teeth in the friendly gesture humans called a smile. "Ignorance can be remedied. Such is my reason for being here."

            "Very well," said Peele, gesturing to Hull, who opened her briefcase and took out a compact multicorder. "We have reliable reports that your captain has been concealing large amounts of income. Our preliminary investigation suggests that the casino operation here generates substantially more revenue than its competitors. Is that true?"

            "I certainly hope so," said Qual, looking back at the casino, which towered over the three of them out on the public street. "It is a distinct pleasure to see one's benefactors prosper. Is that a recording device?"

            "Yes, regulations require us to make accurate records of all our interviews," said Peele. "Do you have any information that would indicate that the captain has skimmed off a portion of the profits for his personal use?"

            "I really have not been here long enough to know that," said Qual. "Does your recorder register images as well as sounds? My people would be interested in such a device."

            "It's a standard, government-issue multicorder," said Hull, somewhat defensively. "We are not authorized to discuss our equipment with civilians."

            "I see," said Qual, smiling again. "But you recognize, I am not a civilian, but a soldier, hence the uniform. Is it not so?"

            "The distinction is complex, and your conclusion is in this case inaccurate," said Special Agent Peele. "Besides, we are here to discuss your captain's finances, not our equipment. Now, if you don't mind..."

            "I could utilize such a recorder in my work," said Qual, reaching for the unit in question. "Will you sell it to me? I have many of your dollars."

            "It is against regulations to sell government equipment," said Hull, pulling the recorder away from the Zenobian's eagerly extended claws. A frown came over her face-the first semblance of an expression she had shown.

            "Ah, regulations, of course," said Qual. "Do you always obey these regulations?"

            "Be careful what you say," said Peele, holding up a hand. "It is a serious offense to solicit government agents to violate regulations. Do not pursue this line of inquiry, or we shall be obliged to report you to our superiors."

            "I should enjoy very much to meet your superiors," said Qual, his teeth still on display. "Are they here on Lorelei?"

            "Unfortunately not," said Hull. "This entire station is a notorious haven for tax-dodgers, and the local authorities have managed to minimize the influence of the IRS here. The casino owners are required to distribute a declarations form to bettors winning large amounts, but very few of those forms are ever filed. And we seriously doubt the accuracy of those we do receive."

            "Proof that Captain Jester-or Mr. Phule, to use his other alias-is evading taxes could give the IRS the leverage to establish a permanent presence here. Then we could begin to build cases against the other casino owners," said Peele. "Our mission is the thin end of the wedge, so it is very important that we play strictly by the regulations. There's a great deal at stake here."

            "All this is most edifying," said Qual. "The ones in authority among my people will be very inquisitive to know how you do such things. But I am depressed that I cannot tell you about the finances of Captain Clown. This is beyond my ken."

            Peele looked at Hull, who said, "I think he's telling the truth-he really doesn't know anything that concerns us. We're wasting our time here." She deactivated her recording device.

            "I think you're right," said Peele, grudgingly. "Well, we'll let you go about your business, then, good sophont. But we may have further questions at another time."

            "It has been most instructive to meet you," said Qual, with a stiff little bow and another toothy grin. He stood and watched as the two IRS agents walked away.

            Back in the casino doorway, some distance away, Tusk-anini watched with narrowed eyes. He wasn't sure what to make of the little Zenobian, but he knew he didn't like the IRS agents. As far as he was concerned, that was more than enough reason to be suspicious of Qual.