V
"You'd better stay here on this terrace out of the way until I've spread the word," Zorn said. "Just in case."
"Let me caution you against any ... ah ... slip-ups, Mr. Zorn," Magnan said. "The Nenni are not to be molested—"
Zorn looked at Retief.
"Your friend talks too much," he said. "I'll keep my end of it. He'd better keep his."
"Nothing's happened yet, you're sure?" Magnan said.
"I'm sure," Zorn said. "Ten minutes to go. Plenty of time."
"I'll just step into the salon to assure myself that all is well," Magnan said.
"Suit yourself," Zorn said. "Just stay clear of the kitchen, or you'll get your throat cut." He sniffed at his dope-stick. "What's keeping Shoke?" he muttered.
Magnan stepped to a tall glass door, eased it open and poked his head through the heavy draperies. As he moved to draw back, a voice was faintly audible. Magnan paused, head still through the drapes.