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held belief that, due to the unsophisticated nature of their paranormal power, strat-talents faced a limited job market. A lot of people assumed that they generally pursued criminal careers.
    The misconception was true as far as it went. But in reality strong strat-talents also tended to do spectacularly well in business. Their unique abilities allowed them to assess markets and the competition the way their primitive, earthbound ancestors had once assessed herds of large woolly beasts. A little nudge here, a small, judicious push there and the first thing you know you’ve got a whole bunch of large woolly beasts floundering helplessly in a swamp or dashing headlong over a cliff. Easy prey.
    Rafe knew that he and his kind had a reputation for being ruthless. He preferred to think of himself as simply single-minded.
    Hobart regarded him with a direct, not unsympathetic gaze. “I’m afraid the process of finding a good match for you is going to take a lot longer than I originally estimated, Mr. Stonebraker.”
    Rafe raised his brows. “Because most of the potential matches assume that I’ve got criminal inclinations?”
    â€œI have done all of the appropriate background checks on you, sir. I will not hesitate to assure all potential candidates that you display no deviant or antisocial tendencies.”
    â€œI appreciate that, Batt.”
    Hobart appeared oblivious of the sarcasm. “The commonly held conviction that strat-talents frequently turn to crime is only one of the more unfortunate bits ofconventional wisdom we must overcome. There is another popular myth which is equally difficult to dispel.”
    Rafe narrowed his eyes. “Five hells. Are you referring to that old notion about strat-talents being human lie detectors?”
    â€œWell, yes, since you mention it.”
    â€œThat’s bat-snake shit and you know it.”
    Hobart winced. “Yes, Mr. Stonebraker, I am aware of that. However—”
    â€œIt’s a complete misunderstanding of the nature of strat-talent. Probably left over from the days before the syn-psych experts had perfected their paranormal testing methods.”
    â€œYes, of course, sir. Nevertheless—”
    â€œEvery intelligent, educated person knows that there’s no such thing as a human lie-detector.” Rafe moved one hand in a gesture of disgust. “If there were, there would be no need for courts and criminal trials.”
    Hobart coughed slightly. “You’d be surprised to learn what a strong grip some of the old notions have on the average man on the street.”
    â€œI’m not looking to marry the average man on the street.”
    â€œI understand, Mr. Stonebraker. But the bottom line is that we are dealing with a serious image problem here.”
    He was beset with image problems these days, Rafe thought. After all these years of living life on his own terms, he suddenly had to worry about how others saw him. It was damned annoying.
    â€œEven if it were true that strat-talents can detect lies,” he said patiently, “what is so off-putting about the idea? I assume that you would only match me with a reasonably honest wife.”
    â€œThink about it, Mr. Stonebraker.” Hobart gave him a very level look. “Would you want to be married to someone whom you believed could detect even a tiny, polite, social lie? Would you want to live with a wifewho would know you were not telling the truth when you said she looked like a film star in a bathing suit? The occasional, graceful half-truth is vital to the conduct of a civilized life.”
    â€œOkay, okay, I see what you mean. But the fact is, I don’t possess any magical ability to know if someone is telling me the truth.”
    Not exactly.
    It was true that the same hunter’s intuition that served him well in business and in his hobby of private investigation sometimes gave him warning signals when others tried to mislead him. But that