"How do I know that your voucher is worth the film it's recorded on?" asked the agent reasonably.
"All right," Rip shrugged. "If we have to do it the hard way, we'll cargo dump to cover your bill."
"Not on this field." The other shook his head. "I'll flash in your voucher first."
He had them, Dane thought bitterly. Their luck had run out. Because what he was going to do was a move they dared not protest. It was one any canny agent would make in the present situation. And if they were what they said they were, they must readily agree to let him flash their voucher of payment to I-S headquarters, to be checked and okayed before they took the hydro stock.
But Rip merely registered a mild resignation. "You the Com-tech? Where's your unit? I'll indit at once if you want it that way."
Whether their readiness to co-operate allayed some of the agent's suspicion or not, he relaxed some, giving them one more stare all around before he turned on his heel. "This way."
They followed him down the narrow hall, Rip on his heels, the others behind.
"Lonely post," Rip commented. "I'd think you boys'd get space-whirly out here."
The other snorted. "We're not star lovers. And the pay's worth a three month stretch. They take us down for Terra leave before we start talking to the Whisperers."
"How many of you here at a time?" Rip edged the question in casually.