In a few minutes, a head peered cautiously out the second-story window. Brek tugged at his gun—it seemed to take forever to get it out with the robot armament shut off—and fired once.
A man tumbled out the window, bounced off the awning in front of the building, and dropped heavily to the ground. He lay still.
Brek mopped the blood from his arm. His head was starting to swim with pain, and new worries assailed him. He had killed a man, now. Would it change the past? Would he ever reach Dori again? He didn't know. All he knew was the blinding pain in his arm.
He was in fairly good repair an hour later, though the arm still throbbed a bit. He'd taken it to a local doctor; Sagginer would be suspicious if he'd used Quik-Heal on it. He stood in front of the Murray Hotel, methodically packing his few belongings into his saddlebags.
Chuck walked up. "Ed, the boss would like to see you. Sager."
"Sager? What does he want?"
"Wants to apologize for what Cactus done. He fired Cactus as soon as he heard about the run-in with the sheriff, so he wants you to know he ain't responsible. Cactus had no business layin' for you from that bank window."
Brek shrugged. "Might as well go," he said. "I never figured Sager was behind it anyway."
He headed to the bank. Sager was sitting behind his desk, flanked by a couple of his gunmen. He was a lean, long-nosed man with cold eyes and a narrow, thin-lipped mouth.