"The chickens got out of the coop and flew away three hundred years ago," said Barwell. "Now they're coming home to roost." He hiccoughed. His finger wobbled to the dial and clicked off another whisky. The machine pondered the matter and flashed an apologetic sign: Please deposit your money . "Oh, damn," said Barwell. "I'm broke." Radek shrugged and gave the slot a two-credit piece. It slid the whisky out on a tray with his change. He stuck the coins in his pouch and took another careful sip of