"I only meant—but never mind. We give you what you want. As for paying for it—why, forget about the payment. You may apply for a Trader Tom Credit Card."
"And I could buy anything that I wanted with it?" Manet demanded.
"That's absurd. I'd never be able to pay for it."
"That's it precisely!" Trader Tom said with enthusiasm. "You never pay for it. Charges are merely deducted from your estate.""But I may leave no estate!" Trader Tom demonstrated his peculiar shrug. "All businesses operate on a certain margin of risk. That is our worry."
Manet finished the mellow whiskey and looked into the glass. It seemed to have been polished clean. "What do you have to offer?"
"Whatever you want?"
Irritably, "How do I know what I want until I know what you have?"
"You know."
"I know? All right, I know. You don't have it for sale."
"Old chap, understand if you please that I do not only sell. I am a trader--Trader Tom. I trade with many parties. There are, for example ... extraterrestrials."
"Folk legend!"
"On the contrary, mon cher, the only reality it lacks is political reality. The Assembly could no longer justify their disposition of the cosmos if it were known they were dealing confiscation without representation. Come, tell me what you want."
Manet gave in to it. "I want to be not alone," he said.
"Of course," Trader Tom replied, "I suspected. It is not so unusual, you know. Sign here. And here. Two copies. This is yours. Thank you so much."
Manet handed back the pen and stared at the laminated card in his hand.
TRADER TOM CREDIT CARD
Good for Anything
A-1 9*8*7*6*5*4*3*2*****
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