“No. It’s just that. . .” I paused as a wave of dizziness passed. “Well, I’ve heard you can get better service and prices on Perv if folks don’t know you’re from off-dimension.”
“Bad answer, Skeeve,” Kalvin hissed, but I had already figured that out.
The policeman had gone several shades darker, and his head almost disappeared into his neck. Though his tone was still cordial, he seemed to be picking his words very carefully.
“Are ya tryin’ to tell me you think our whole dimension is full of clip joints and thieves? Is that what yer sayin’?”
Too late I saw my error. Aahz had always seemed to be proud of the fact that Pervects were particularly good at turning a profit. It had never occurred to me that to some, this might sound like an insult.
“Not at all,” I said hastily. “I assumed it was like any other place,, . . that the best prices and services were reserved for locals and visitors got what was left. I was just trying to take advantage of normal priorities, that’s all.” I thought it was a pretty good apology. The policeman, however, seemed unimpressed. Unsmiling, he produced a notepad and pencil.
“Name?”
His voice was almost flat and impersonal, but managed to still convey a degree of annoyance.
“Look. I’ll pay for the meal, if that’s what the problem is.”
“I didn’t ask if you were payin’ for the meal. I asked you what your name is. Now are you going to tell me here, or should we be talkin’, down at the precinct station?”
Kalvin was suddenly hovering in front of me again. “Better tell him, Skeeve,” he said, his tone matching his worried expression. “This cop seems to have an Eath up his Yongie.”