"What are you talking about? If there are any damages, I'll pay. He didn't—hurt, anyone, did he?"
The sergeant broke the toothpick between his teeth, laughed. "Him? Naw. He got the hell beat out of him by a drunk half his size. It ain't that kind of trouble, Mr. Arkalion. You know what an 1182 card is, mister?"
Arkalion's face drained white. "Why—yes."
"Alaric's got one."
"Naturally."
"According to the card, he should have shipped out on the Nowhere Journey, mister. He didn't. He's in serious trouble."
"I'll see the district attorney."
"More'n likely, you'll see the attorney general. Serious trouble."