Have axe, will travel.

[Monczeli]

Smoke and grease dominated the canteen of one of Opal Junction's less salubrious starport transfer stations. Roland stretched. The trip from Caledon had been uncomfortable, and the layover not long enough to relax.

"All passengers for Galactic flight 979 to Rubi-Ka please board at gate 230."

Roland sighed heavily. That's me, he thought as he attempted to prise himself from the unpleasantly sticky seat. He turned, but his exit was blocked by a portly man with a receding hairline, who grinned nervously.

"E-e-excuse me," the man stammered. "Are you... Are you Ariel Zolt? I've read all your books!" As if producing evidence, he held a cheap holodisk at arm's length. The covering was visible: the kind of sensationalist attention-grabber spaceport bookstores laughably file under non-fiction. The title, in bold, red lettering, Kyr'Ozch: Hoax or Conspiracy. Sure enough, under the title was written the name Ariel Zolt.

"No, I'm sorry," Roland replied with a hint of irritation. "You must be mistaken."

The man clapped his hands with glee. "Oh-ho! I understand! Whatever you're researching, it must be pretty controversial! I'm sure many people are watching you! Say no more, friend. Just... just please sign my book!"

Roland grabbed the holodisk from the man's sweaty hand and activated the author's picture. Long, curly, chestnut hair, thick spectacles and the kind of goatee that could only belong to a conspiracy theorist stared blankly back at him.

"I look nothing like him!" Roland protested.

"Of course, of course!" The man lifted his index finger to the side of his nose and leaned forward to whisper. "You're in disguise!"

Roland stared in stunned silence, during which time another announcement came over the public address system. "Last call for all passengers for Galactic 979 to Rubi-Ka. Gate 230."

Roland's eyes moved to the pen the man was holding out expectantly. Impatiently, he snatched it, scrawled an obscenity on the disk, and thrust both pen and disk back into the man's hands.

"Thank you! Thank you!" the man beamed.

Roland grunted and pushed past the man, and went to meet his transport.