different time lines, of course. The ones who tell the suicide story
saw no firearms among the Croutha; the ones who tell the kidnap story
say that they all had some kind of muskets and pistols. We're making
synthetic summaries of the two stories."

"We're having trouble with the locals about all these strangers coming
in," Gathon Dard added. "They're getting curious."

"We'll have to take a chance on that," Vall said. "Are the
interrogations still going on? Then let's have a look-in at them."

The big double doors at the end of the shed were barred on the inside.
Krador Arv unlocked a small side door, letting Vall, Dalla and Gathon
Dard out. In the yard outside, a gang of slaves were unloading a big
wagon of oranges and packing them into hampers; they were guarded by a
couple of native riflemen who seemed mostly concerned with keeping
them away from the shed, and a man in a white cloak was watching the
guards for the same purpose. He walked over and introduced himself to
Vall.

"Golzan Doth, local alias Dosu Golan. I'm Consolidated Outtime
Foodstuffs' manager here."

"Nasty business for you people," Vall sympathized. "If it's any
consolation, it's a bigger headache for us."

"Have you any idea what's going to be done about these slaves?"
Golzan Doth asked. "I have to remember that the Company has forty
thousand Paratemporal Exchange Units invested in them. The top office
was very specific in requesting information about that."