"About the high stakes losers," Rivqua said. "The ones who might have left here with rear ends exposed on some occasion. Have any ever returned to demand a refund?"
"Certainly! It happens all the time!" returned Fishhead, the fin on the top of his head rising like a fan. "Some even have the audacity to demand interest!"
"Is that so?"
"You wouldn't believe some of these low-life alien life forms. That's why we have guard bots all over the place, hidden behind wall panels and whatnot. The trouble is, whenever they activate and pull off a major intercept, with all the public raucus that goes with it, invariably it spooks the rest of the clientele. People leave and our earnings go down. Intercepts are bad for business!"
"As are involuntary refunds," Rivqua mumbled.
"Hoot Gaas would have none of it, I tell you!"
Truck turned again in her chair. "Hate to break up the meetin' of minds, but you guys have a gig comin' up in the near future, like in fifteen minutes. Any thoughts on visitin' your dressin' room before goin' up? It's my understandin' you got one. Vocal warmups, maybe? I have a suggestion, a set list! Let's see, do I remember what a set list is...? Yes, it's comin' back to me." She gestured with a telling expression. "If it's not too much trouble."
Their sound tech's ramble brought the girls over to the ballroom side of the control deck. Zana looked out the window.
"Wow, it's filling up quick down there."
"Aren't we lucky."
"It's just that our audiences usually don't wear tuxes and evening dresses and sit at tables."
"Do a royal wave between songs and they'll be eatin' our of your hand."
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