“Yes, we are. We need—”

But Dexter, automatically, had moved into his pitch. “So it’s a hearty welcome to the Big Marble, sirs. Whatever you want, I can get. Love juice, tipsy pudding, Paradox, worm-diving. You name it. Tiger-hots—”

He stopped abruptly. Dougal MacDougal had reached down and placed one enormous hand on Earl Dexter’s collarbone, his fingers curved toward the busker’s throat.

“Thank you, Ambassador. That ought to help.” Flammarion stepped close to the fat man.

“Slither, Velocil, starbane, jujy rolls,” Dexter said half-heartedly.

“None of them. We need a person.”

“Ah, a person. Well, I can do that. Only—” The busker hesitated. “Only, like, what are you wanting to do with the person? I got girls, see — and boys — who’ll go along with most things, but if it’s snakes or snuff you’re talking about—”

“We need to find a particular man. And the Ambassador here wants to talk to him. And that’s enough for you, you don’t need to know any more.”

“Sure, sure. Talk to him, right?” Earl Dexter craned his neck to one side and eased himself clear of Dougal MacDougal’s grip. “Do you know where this man is?”

“We know he’s on Earth. We know this is the closest Link exit point to where he lives. I know what he looks like, and we have an old address, down in the Gallimaufries — isn’t that what you call the basement warrens? And we know his name.”

“Then you’re home free. If he’s in the Gallimaufries and you give me the name, I can find him.”

“And bring him here?”

“Don’t know about that. But I can take you to him.” Dexter took another step away from Dougal MacDougal. “Of course, a service like this, it’s a little bit out of the ordinary. Won’t come cheap.” He paused, at a growl from Dougal MacDougal, and added weakly, “Extra expenses…”