And his expression was anything but jovial. The man was worried. Seriously worried.

"Yes, I'm Compton," I confirmed. "And you?"

"My name's Smith," he said. His voice carried a slight central EuroUnion accent. "I wonder if I might have a moment of your time."

I glanced across the table at the dark-haired young woman seated there. Bayta had been my sort-of-informal partner for the past several months, ever since I'd gotten myself involved in this strange twilight war between the Spiders and the group mind known as the Modhri. She was looking up at Smith, her face showing her usual wariness of strangers but nothing that might indicate she knew anything more ominous about the man. "Fine, but only a moment," I told Smith. "As you can see, we've just started dinner."

"My apologies for that," Smith said. Pulling over a chair from the unoccupied table beside us, he sat down. "To put it bluntly, I'm on my way into a situation that might require a man of your abilities and experience. I thought I might be able to persuade you to join me."

"What specific abilities and experience are you referring to?" I asked.

He smiled. "Come now, Mr. Compton, let's not be modest. Your record of service in Western Alliance Intelligence speaks for itself."

"You might possibly have missed the last page of that record," I suggested. "The page where Westali summarily booted me out."

Smith snorted in a genteel sort of way. "For your very proper attempt to alert the world to the Yandro colonization boondoggle," he said. "Personally, I consider that a point in your favor."

"Nice to see someone appreciates it," I said. "Unfortunately, as to your job, I'm afraid I'm otherwise engaged at the moment."

"This would take very little of your time," he assured me. "I'm on my way to Bellis to negotiate the purchase of a small but very valuable item."