The first counselor reappeared. Age, indeterminate. Not, he supposed, that anyone would be curious about it. Slightly taller than average, rather on the slender side. Face was broad at the brow, narrow at the chin and her eyes were enigmatic. A dangerous woman.
She glanced down at the data. "Denton Cassal, native of Earth. Destination, Tunney 21." She looked up at him. "Occupation, sales engineer. Isn't that an odd combination?" Her smile was quite superior.
"Not at all. Scientific training as an engineer. Special knowledge of customer relations."
"Special knowledge of a thousand races? How convenient." Her eyebrows arched.
"I think so," he agreed blandly. "Anything else you'd like to know?"
"Sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
He could believe that or not as he wished. He didn't.
"You refused to answer why you were going to Tunney 21. Perhaps I can guess. They're the best scientists in the Galaxy. You wish to study under them."
Close—but wrong on two counts. They were good scientists, though not necessarily the best. For instance, it was doubtful that they could build Dimanche, even if they had ever thought of it, which was even less likely.