"That's all right with me. It's easier to drive this rod with a clear head."

"No doubt," said Farradyne. "So now that we are about to drink together, let's face it. You had more in mind than to pass the time of day with a nervous spaceman who wanted to be alone."

"Correct. Or as you birds say, Aye-firm. How's the hellblossom business?"

"That's easy to answer. The answer is that I haven't any, and I'm not in the business."

"People say you are."

"People are wrong."

"Sometimes, but not always."

Farradyne grunted. "Not too long ago, someone accused me openly. The story started when someone suggested that the only way a guy could come from down on his bottom to the top of the heap in one large step was to be among the big-time operators. The heavy-sugar know-how. To the limited imagination, this meant running love lotus."

Mike Cahill was silent while the high-breasted waitress brought their drinks. After she left, Cahill lifted his glass to Farradyne. "Is you is or is you ain't?" he chuckled.

"I ain't," said Farradyne, drinking with Cahill.

"Stop sounding like a parrot. The tomato in the bar on Ganymede must have known something. You spent four years as flat on your duff as a musclebound wrestler and then you come bouncing along in a last-year model Lancaster. So since we know damned well that you're no hellblossom runner, where did you get the stack?""Thrift and good management."
"Maybe it's a rich uncle?"
"I'm just a capable operator."
"The label is sour, Farradyne."
"Then what do you make of this?" asked Farradyne, handing Cahill his license folder.
"It looks nice and legal, but it's as phony as a ten-cent diamond and both of us know it. So how did you get it--and the Lancaster to go along with it?"
Farradyne sipped his drink. "Look, Cahill, it just happens that I don't care to tell. This is a gentler version of the old bark, 'None of your blank business!' which I've always considered rude and which has started a lot of fights. But the fact remains that I am not telling."
"It might make a difference if you did."
"Let's stop fencing. I may be of use to you. It might be that you are a SAND agent and it might be otherwise, but I still may be of use to you either way. But the first time I start shooting off my trap, you'll get the idea that I'm not close-mouthed enough for whatever job you have in mind for me. So let's 

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