Major Joseph Mauser, now attired in his best off-duty Category Military
uniform, spoke his credentials to the receptionist. "I have no definite
appointment, but I am sure the Baron will see me," he said.
"Yes, sir." The receptionist did the things that receptionists do, then
looked up at him again. "Right through that door, major."
Joe Mauser gave the door a quick double rap and then entered before
waiting an answer.
Balt Haer, in mufti, was standing at a far window, a drink in his hand,
rather than his customary swagger stick. Nadine Haer sat in an
easy-chair. The girl Joe Mauser loved had been crying.
Joe Mauser, suppressing his frown, made with the usual amenities.
Balt Haer without answering them, finished his drink in a gulp and
stared at the newcomer. The old stare, the aloof stare, an aristocrat
looking at an underling as though wondering what made the fellow tick.
He said, finally, "I see you have been raised to Rank Major."
"Yes, sir," Joe said.
"We are obviously occupied, major. What can either my sister or I
possibly do for you?"