t it sat a clerk in a pale blue tunic, who was just taking the
audio-plugs of a music-box out of his ears. A couple of policemen in
green uniforms, with ultrasonic paralyzers dangling by thongs from their
left wrists and bolstered sigma-ray needlers like the one on the desk
inside the dome, were kidding with some girls in vivid orange and
scarlet and green smocks. One of these, in bright green, was a duplicate
of the one he had seen rubbing herself down with a towel.

"Here comes your boss-man," one of the girls told the cops, as he
approached. They both turned and saluted casually. The man who had
lately been using the name of Richard Lee responded to their greeting
and went to the desk. The policemen grasped their paralyzers, drew
their needlers, and hurried into the dome.

Taking the disk of blue plastic from his packet, he handed it to the
clerk at the desk, who dropped it into a slot in the voder in front
of him. Instantly, a mechanical voice responded:

"Verkan Vall, blue-seal noble, hereditary Mavrad of Nerros. Special
Chief's Assistant, Paratime Police, special assignment. Subject to no
orders below those of Tortha Karf, Chief of Paratime Police. To be given
all courtesies and co-operation within the Paratime Transposition Code
and the Police Powers Code. Further particulars?"

The clerk pressed the "no"-button. The blue sigil fell out the
release-slot and was handed back to its bearer, who was drawing up
his left sleeve.

"You'll want to be sure I'm _your_ Verkan Vall, I suppose?" he said,
extending his arm.

"Yes, quite, sir."

The clerk touched his arm with a small instrument which swabbed it with
antiseptic, drew a minute blood-sample, and medicated the needle prick,
all in one almost painless operation. He put the blood-drop on a slide
and inserted it at one side of a comparison microscope, nodding. It
showed the same distinctive permanent colloid pattern as the sample he
had ready for comparison; the colloid pattern given in infancy by
injection to the man in front of him, to set him apart from all the
myriad other Verkan Valls on every other probability-line of paratime.

"Right, sir," the clerk nodded.

The two policemen came out of the dome, their needlers holstered and
their vigilance relaxed. They were lighting cigarettes as they emerged.

"It's all right, sir," one of them said. "You didn't bring anything in
with you, this trip."

The other cop chuckled. "Remember that Fifth Level wild-m