Cheng's voice again: "A man runs a woman into his place in a space-sack, he likes her some, Thigpen. That's the way I see it."
Ross dug his nails into the table.
"Call her a hostage if you want to, Thigpen. Because she don't come back till I get the formula for that life catalyst stuff you took off old Tornelescu."
Ross' eyes seemed to draw deeper into his skull, his head to sink farther down between his shoulders.
"Of course, if you're the kind of chitza don't give a filan how long it takes the wench to die, that won't mean nothing to you."
Ross stood as if carved in granite.
"Maybe you do like her, though." Cheng chuckled maliciously. "Well, then, that makes it simple: you just hang around awhile at a place they call Naraki's. It's down in the old port quarter." A fragmentary pause. "You got that, Thigpen? You just stick at Naraki's kabat-dive till somebody comes and gets you.
"Otherwise—no more Veta Hall!"
The memory ball clicked off.