"Let's stop fencing. I may be of use to you. It might be that you are a SAND agent and it might be otherwise, but I still may be of use to you either way. But the first time I start shooting off my trap, you'll 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, huh? I got a ticket that gets me in and out and a spacer that takes me there and back."
"And that's your story?"
Farradyne nodded, sipped his drink, and 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, I'm told, excellently. Nothing like fresh vegetables."
Farradyne nodded. "No matter how well we convert the planets to Terra-condition, nothing grows like on earth."
"Ever enjoy lying on your back in the sun in a field of flowers with nothing to do but get sunburned?"
"Not for a long time."
"Funny how a guy gets out of his kid-habits," mused Cahill. "And even funnier how he wants to go and do it all over again, but it's never quite the same."