"It's not—oh, all right. Regulations aren't too strict on these levels. She your sister?"
"Wife." He turned to Rusche.
"See you at the lift in about an hour," he said and headed for the advertising agency where Janith was employed.
"We haven't been informed as to her whereabouts yet, Mr. Duggan," the receptionist at Duffey's offices said coldly.
Duggan glared down into the carefully pretty face, the solar-lamp tan and the knife-smoothed wrinkles.
"Now see here, Blanche," he said, and spluttered impotently.
"See here yourself, Merle Duggan," the woman spat back sharply. "After all! You come running back just because she's hurt. Why didn't you come back like this a year ago?"
"I was with her a year ago."
"That wasn't you. You didn't have guts enough to rent a super mech and go back to your old job." The woman laughed. "Janith tried to insult and needle you into being a man again. And you just crawled."