“That’s right. Take me to Service HQ, will you?”
“Sure enough.” The hoppy gunned his machine. It rose smoothly to the express level. “First time I ever got close to a Service man. Didn’t hardly believe it at first when I saw you taking your face off. You sure looked different.”
“Have to, sometimes,” Jo said, preoccupied.
“I’ll bet. No wonder you know all about everything before it breaks. You must have a thousand faces each, your own mother wouldn’t know you, eh? Don’t you care if I know about your snooping around in disguise?”
Jo grinned. The grin created a tiny pulling sensation across one curve of his cheek, just next to his nose. He stripped away the overlooked bit of tissue and examined it critically.
“Of course not. Disguise is an elementary part of Service work. Anyone could guess that. We don’t use it often, as a matter of factonly on very simple assignments.”
“Oh.” The hoppy sounded slightly disappointed, as melo-drama faded. He drove silently for about a minute. Then, speculatively: “Sometimes I think the Service must have time-travel, the things they pull… . Well, here you are.
Good luck, mister.”
“Thanks.”
Jo went directly to Krasna’s office. Krasna was a Randolpher. Earth-trained, and answerable to the Earth office, but otherwise pretty much on his own. His heavy, muscular face wore the same expression of serene confidence that was characteristic of Service officials everywhereeven some that, technically speaking, had no faces to wear it.
“Boy meets girl,” Jo said briefly. “On the nose and on the spot.”