"I'm afraid it is. If you could only get a space bat now, Lou—doesn't that Earth circus still offer a million to anybody who captures one alive?"
"Yeah," Flint said dejectedly. "But nobody's ever captured a space bat, dead or alive." He stuck his hands deep in his pockets and walked around the room, staring at the floor. Suddenly he halted in his tracks. Then he whirled back to the desk. "If I get a million dollars to you before this guy gives you his check, is the place mine?"
The Governor's smile was puzzled. "Well, I could probably arrange it, but—"
"Fine. Now could you also arrange for me to meet this guy at the space port tonight? I'll be his guide."
"I don't like the way you're acting, Lou. I don't want any trouble."
Flint grinned. "You old goat. You're thinking about your reputation. When you and Dad were with the first settlers that took Saturn away from the natives, you didn't worry about trouble then. But I promise—I won't do anything to hurt your politics."
The Governor shook his head resignedly. "You're just as stubborn as your father was," he said. He reached in a drawer and handed Flint a small engraved card. It read:
K. V. Vaun
Fur Fashions, Inc.
New York City, Earth
"Thanks," Flint said. "I'll be there tonight." He strode quickly from the room.