Weezel slurped the drink down noisily and instantly became calmer and less fidgety. Doomberry was known, among other things, for its tran-quillising effects. Janus had used it for a few months to drown out the voices, but eventually they had broken through, and he'd needed to take something stronger. And the dreams that stuff gave you…

'It will give you nightmares, Weezel,' he said.

'Couldn't be worse than my life,' said Weezel with a certain gloomy satisfaction. 'Not that I'm not grateful to you for the drink or anything, captain.'

'These strangers do anything else? Mention any names, carry anything unusual?'

'No - what you gonna do about these guys, captain? Round up your crew and give them a seeing to? Hop aboard the Star of Venam and shake the dust of this hellhole off yer boots? If you're looking for another crewman, count me in. I did my time on starships, captain. I wasn't always a dirtside rat like I am now.'

Was he serious, Janus wondered? Did he really imagine I would give a draghead like him a berth on the Star.

Why not, part of him answered cynically? You would have something in common. It was not something he wanted to consider too closely at this moment.

'Oh, I forgot,' said Weezel, not without malice in his tone. 'You can't, can you? Not since the syndics had your ship impounded since you couldn't pay for the refit and all.'

Janus suddenly felt like hitting the little man. That was the last thing he wanted to be reminded of. Too many people were looking for him right now, and he was stuck without a ship, without a crew…

It was always the way, wasn't it? Maybe he should just stick the muzzle of his bolt pistol in his mouth and pull the trigger. It would save everybody a lot of trouble, not the least him. It wasn't the first time he had considered this in the last few weeks - he had fallen further, faster, than any man ought to.

'Don't have a crew neither, so I hear,' slurred Weezel. The doombeny juice was obviously taking effect now, for he would never have dared to mention such things a few minutes earlier. 'I hear next to nobody made it back from your last voyage. Sailors say you're cursed. Something about a temple on a world near the Eye.'

Now Janus really was angry. He unholstered his bolt pistol and set it on the table in front of him. Weezel's face went white. A sudden silence passed over the bar and lots of strangers glanced uneasily in his direction. A few of them undipped the flaps of their own holsters. Two of Justina's bouncers came up on their toes. One of them reached behind the bar for something.

'And I hear you are a fast runner, Weezel,' said Janus.

'What… what do you mean?'

'I am wondering if you are fast enough to be out the door there by the time I count to ten.'

'What did I say, captain?'

'Think you can outrun a bolter shell, Weez?'

'I didn't mean to offend you, captain. If I said something out of line, I am sorry. I only want to help out. After all, I came here to warn you about those strangers, didn't I?'

'One.'

'Captain, you've been drinking, and you look like you've been doing way too much 'conda, begging your pardon. You wouldn't shoot a man just for flapping his lips, would you? Think of the trouble you'd be in with the Arbites!'

'Maybe I don't have anything left to lose, Weezel, not having a ship and any crew any more. Two'.

'I didn't mean nothing by that, captain. I was just thinking aloud.'

'Thinking had nothing to do with it, Weezel. And by the way, you're running out of time.