"You can go to hell," Sealilly said, "and I will guide you there."
"You refuse?"
"I do. It's too dangerous for a spaceman. Full of bog-fever. You've no natural resistance. Besides, I'm busy inventorying."
"Very well," Wellesley said, struggling to hold his temper in check, "I'll find them alone."
"In which case," said Sealilly, "you will not come back, and that will be an irreparable loss to the Empire."
Wellesley left him and made his way toward the swamp. Joseph was playing near his ship, and calling orders to an imaginary crew inside. When he saw Wellesley he came running.
"We were just blasting off for Earth," he said, "but I heard you and Pa talking. If you want to go in the swamp, I'll show you the way. I've been there lots. The Ophirians hang out on the shores of the black lake, where the organ pipes are." He pointed to the towering pinnacles in the distance. "They catch shellfish there."
"You know them?"
"Everybody has seen them. They are kind of green and slimy, but they won't hurt you. They can't see in the day-time. Only smell. Anyway, I'm not afraid of them."
"Done," said Wellesley, "and in return for the favor I promise to put in a word for you at the nearest spaceman's hiring hall."