Jali Dawler opened the flat-file and removed several items. He placed them on his desk one by one. A few holopics, several hard copies of documents, and a datachip. Cel’uura’na, a Nikto, studied the holopics, her finned face showing no emotion, her black eyes perfectly neutral. Jali made no comment; he drew on his cigarette and tried not to watch her. She was only one of the many women who came into his office that asked if there husband was seeing someone else. And she was only one of the many women he had to break the bad news to. “Mr Rinner is here,” said Ayan Retov, Jali’s secretary.