Dzhackoon sighed. "There goes the old arrest record."
"He's a crook!" Dan cut in. "He's been robbing art galleries!"
"Keep calm, Dan," Blote murmured, "no need to be overly explicit."
The Agent turned to look the Trader over.
"Vegan, aren't you? I imagine you're the fellow I've been chasing."
"Who, me?" the bass voice rumbled. "Look, officer, I'm a home-loving family man, just passing through. As a matter of fact—"
The uniformed creature nodded toward the paintings in the carrier. "Gathered a few souvenirs, I see."
"For the wives and kiddy. Just a little something to brighten up the hive."
"The penalty for exploitation of a sub-cultural anthropoid-occupied body is stasis for a period not to exceed one reproductive cycle. If I recall my Vegan biology, that's quite a period."
"Why, officer! Surely you're not putting the arm on a respectable law-abiding being like me? Why, I lost a tentacle fighting in defense of peace—" As he talked, Blote moved toward the carrier.