But listen, will you?"

"Nobody listened to me, why should I listen to you?"

"Because I have something to say," said Clevis pointedly. "Do you want to hear it?"

"Go ahead."

"I'm Howard Clevis of the Solar Anti-Narcotic Department."

Farradyne snorted. "Well, I haven't got any. I don't use any. And I don't have much truck with those that do."

"Nobody is on trial here--nothing that you say can be used in any way. That's why I came alone. Look ... if I were in your shoes I'd do anything at all to get out of this muck-field."

"Some things even a bum won't do. And I don't owe you anything."

"Wrong. When you dumped the Semiramide into The Bog four years ago, you killed one of our best operatives. We need you, Farradyne, and you owe us for that. Now?"

"When I dumped the Semiramide no one would listen to me. Do you want to listen to me now?"

"No, I don't."

"I got a raw deal."

"So did the man you killed."

"I didn't kill anybody!" yelled Farradyne.

Clevis eyed Farradyne calmly, even though Farradyne was large enough to take the smaller, older man's hide off if he got angry enough. "I'm not here to argue that point," said Clevis, "and I don't intend to. Regardless of how you feel, I'm offering you a chance to get out of this mess. It's a space job, Farradyne."

"What makes you think I'll play stool pigeon?"

"It's no informer's job. It's space-piloting."

"I'll bet."

"You bet and I'll cover it a thousand to one."

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