noon sun
_ Pause . _ `` And you 'd better know what you 're doing ! '' _ It was an angry group in a corner of the Bullones ' main salon . Louvered shades cut the green glare of a noon sun . In the background there was the hum of air-conditioning and the clatter of roboservants preparing for the night 's election party . Stetson leaned against the wall beside a divan , hands jammed deeply into the pockets of his wrinkled , patched fatigues . The wagon tracks furrowed his high forehead .