There was no price listed on the paper. He looked. He'd hoped to establish the parity value of a newspaper for price-scaling.
He sought the financial section. There was none. There were sports, news items that interested him not one bit because not one of them pertained to the robbery of anything—the latter would have given him an initial idea of the value of things.
The newspaper was thin and uninteresting. A society column listed the comings and goings of people and their associations. He found among the new arrivals column a notation of his own arrival—sketchy and uninformative—in Gerd Lel Rayne's ship; and a statement to the effect that Wan Nes Stan might be able to give some information as to the struggle of Terra in their advancement to the Galactic state.
The latter was too close to home for Wan Nes Stan. It sounded a little as though he might be known; that his masquerade was understood.
It was.
A knock came at the door an hour later, and as Wan Nes Stan opened the door, the Galactic who stood there smiled and said: "Wan Nes Stan? Formerly Terran of Terra?"
"I ... must admit it."
"Think nothing of it," replied the Galactic affably. "I am Len Dor Vale, sector overseer."
"My masquerade is known?"