"Once I get set up, I'll probably try to open my own business."
"And spend your weekends on Luna."
Craig half rose from his cot, jarred into anger.
But the old spaceman turned, smiling wryly. "Don't get hot, kid. I guess I spent too long in Zone V." He paused to examine his wrinkled hands. They were indelibly marked with lever callouses. "You get to thinking anyone who stays closer'n eighty light years from Terra is a land-lubber."
Craig relaxed, realizing he had acted childishly. "Used to think the same. Then I took the exam and got this job."
"Whereabouts?"
"Los Angeles."
The old man looked up at Craig. "You don't know much about Terra, do you, son?"
"Not much."
"Yeah. Well, I hope you ain't disappointed."