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licking his thumb and counting the bills. "Nice chasing you!"
    "Anytime." Rod waved, feeling slightly numb. The lieutenant closed the door behind him with relief. Rod turned back to the General, shaking his head. "Funny how underdeveloped societies always leam the same aspect of our culture first, isn't it?"
    "Quite." The General turned away, going back to his desk. "Well! At least that's done!"
    "Yeah. Nice to have it over with, isn't it?" Rod grabbed Gwen's arm and made for the door. "Thanks for straightening things out for us. General. If there's anything we can ever do for you..."
    "As a matter of fact," Shacklar murmured, "you could answer a few questions...."
    Rod's body jerked as his feet stopped and his shoulders tried to keep going. He glared at Gwen.
    "We must observe the rules of courtesy, my lord."
    "Next time just stop me with a word, okay?" Rod turned back. "Why, sure. General. What kind of questions did you have in mind?"
    The General's mouth was pinched at the corners with hidden amusement.
    Rod frowned, noticing something he'd missed before. He stepped up to the General's desk, peering at Shacklar's

THE WARLOCK WANDERING
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    corps insignia. It was the staff of Aesculapius. "You're a doctor!"
    "Psychiatrist, actually." The General smiled. "Surely that is an appropriate profession for the chief administrative officer of a former correctional colony?"
    "Uh ... yeah, I guess it is." Rod frowned. "I just wasn't expecting anything so logical."
    "I'm not certain it was, in its genesis." Shacklar's smile hardened. "But I do think it's worked out for the best. I've quite a sense of purpose here."
    "Yeah, I can see that you would have." Rod straightened, clearing his throat. "Well! About those questions. Gen-eral ..."
    "Yes, indeed. Would you mind telling me how you came to be shipwrecked on Wblmar?"
    "No, not at all." If I can think of it. Shacklar looked up over steepled fingers. "Touch of amnesia?"
    "Oh, no, no," Rod said quickly. "Not amnesia, really; it's just that, uh..." He took a deep breath and began improvising at top speed. "Uh, I know this is going to sound strange, but, uh ... we were on our way to a costume ball, aboard a passenger liner from, uh..." He tried to remember a ship that had disappeared without a trace, about the end of the I.D.E. era. He could only think of the most famous one, and cursed mentally, then followed it with a quick thought-apology to Gwen. "We were on the, uh, Alfreda, outbound from Fido—you know. Beta Canis Minor's fourth planet—on our way to Tuonela, the fifth planet of 61
    Cygni..."
    "But you never attained your destination?" Rod nodded. After all, the Alfreda had left Fido with a remarkable number of famous people aboard, but had never been heard from again. That gave Rod scope for considerable poetic license. "We felt this huge lurch—horrible, I wound up with caviar all over my doublet—and the crew 34 Christopher Stasheff
    started hollering for all of us to get into suspended-animation pods, and aimed us at random, hoping we'd strike Terrancolonized planets sooner or later."
    "Which, fortunately, you did." Shacklar pulled out a pipe and clasped it high on the stem, hiding his mouth; but the comers of his eyes crinkled.
    "So here we are," Rod finished. "Our pod landed out in the Wolmen's territory, and... uh... you... don't... believe me..."
    "No, I didn't say that at all." The General leaned forward to prop his elbows on his desk.
    "But it's the best entertainment you've had all week?"
    "All year, in fact." Shacklar smiled warmly. "They don't have tales like that on the 3DT any more."
    "Well, if you doubt my word, you can check the records. The Alfreda did disappear en route from Beta Canis Minor to 61 Cygni..."
    "Yes, I remember the incident well; there were so many politicians aboard that it was quite a scandal." Shacklar gave him an amiable smile. "That much, at least, is quite true, I'm certain. As to the rest of it, though... Ah, well, I'm not one to press.