"Look, Downing, if this thing is as important as they claim, we're fools not to work together. Right?"
"As corny as it sounds—the fate of races depends—I believe the Little Man. Until this fool project is over, no fight."
"Shake."
Downing made a "wait" gesture. He picked up an ornate dinner candle from the mantelpiece and lit it. He took cigarettes, offered one to Lane, and they shook hands. And they lit their cigarettes in the same candle flame.
And Thompson said to Kennebec: "A pair of showmen."
"And the best flight commanders in the Guard, confound it!"
Stellor Downing, out of his Martian uniform and wearing the dress uniform of Terra, piloted Patricia Kennebec through the tables to a seat. "Stop worrying," he laughed.
"I suppose I should," she admitted.
"Then please do."