"It looks nice and legal but it is as phony as a ten-cent diamond and both of us know it. So how did you get it—and the Lancaster to go along with it?"
Farradyne sipped his drink. "Look, Cahill, it just happens that it's none of your damned business! I am not talking."
"It might make a difference if you did."
"Let's stop fencing. I may be of use to you. Now it might be that you are a SAND agent and it might be otherwise, I still may be of use to you either way. But the first time I start shooting off my trap, you'll begin to get the idea that I'm not close-mouthed enough for whatever job you have in mind for me. So let's leave it this way. I have a ticket that gets me in and out and a spacer that takes me there and back."
"And that's your story?"
"That's my story. Finis." Farradyne sipped his drink and then offered Cahill a smoke which Cahill took.
"We've had a rather moist spring," observed Cahill.
"It was moister on Venus," commented Farradyne.
"It's on Terra that the weather is fine," said Cahill. "The crops are coming up excellently, I'm told. Nothing like fresh vegetables."
Farradyne nodded. "No matter how well we convert the planets to Terra condition, nothing grows like on earth."