Craig said nothing. He fumbled for a grip on a packing box.
"You're from Out, aren't you, buddy? You ain't used to us here yet. Most of my customers are from Out. What jam'd you get into?"
"I got ten units, I think," Craig evaded.
"It ain't none of my business what you done. Nobody around here is going to ask you any questions. Long as you got units, you get poly like the big shots that come over here all the way from Uptown."
"Yeah," said Craig. "Gimme what I get for ten units and let's beat it out of here."
"Myself, I never been Out. Not even Luna. Never wanted to. I stay here and have my little business—you can call it a business. You'll see, buddy, there are millions of guys like me. The controllers don't stop us. We're respectable. A damned sight more respectable than those...."
"All right," snapped Craig. "Let's get out of here."
"You got it bad, huh? This poly will fix that up. It's pure. You just come back to old Nave and get poly."
"How ... how you get out of here?" asked Craig, nauseated.
"Get lost pretty easy in the dark, huh?" The man was beginning to mock him.