They wound up on a private landing flat on one wing of a big beach hotel - a four-car space, the hotel's own landing flat being on another wing.  The pilot set the cab to home-in alone, took Jubal's bag and escorted him inside. "You couldn't have come in too easily via the lobby," he said conversationally, "as the foyer on this floor is filled with some very badtempered cobras.  So if you decide you want to go down to the street, be sure to ask somebody first.  Me, or anybody - I'm Tim."