You've got no reservation. Wouldn't have mattered if you had, actually. Flight 79 lifted ten minutes ago." The clerk patted back a yawn and looked past Retief, who commented mildly, "Jumped the gun, didn't it?" "You don't have to get nasty!" the counterman protested, his pinched face pale with rage. "How else do you think T-P can maintain its rep for punctual arrivals? Besides, you were actually booked on the Irresponsible, which was lost in space a week ago. Probably shot up by the Ree. They pretend they're palsy-walsy, but I don't trust the dastards," the travel agent elaborated. "I put you on stand-by for 79, which you missed. Hardly my fault." "Anything else going that way?" Retief asked. "Certainly not!" was the reply. "No one with good sense would want to go out to any of those frontier hell-holes with all these Ree infiltrating, anyway." "Right," Retief said firmly.
