Mark wondered if this man would believe him. He didn't think so. Nevertheless, he'd already made up his story so he drew a long breath and told it:
"I was with Tri-Planet News Service working out of Chicago. I happened to uncover a huge spacer contract graft. I got the names of the higher ups, photostatic copies of incriminating documents—everything. But the men involved happened to be too high up; my story was squashed before it ever reached the wires. I would have been, too, permanently, but I escaped to Mars—"
Janus was laughing at him behind that red beard. Mark was sure of it. He shrugged and didn't attempt to go on with the fabrication. It had been a good try, anyway.
Janus said dryly: "Now tell me the real story. Or shall I tell you? You received one of the typical BINWI offers. You're running away to cool off, or maybe to keep your invention out of their hands. Is it this—ah—camera?" Janus glanced at the compact box lying there.
"That's right," Mark admitted, marvelling at this man. "They made me several offers but I wouldn't come through. The last one was 'typical', all right—backed up by some of their hired thugs."
"Why didn't you tell me this in the first place?"
"I wasn't sure how you felt about the BINWI." Mark was still wary.
"The same as you do, although I've never had any contact with them personally. My special peeve is the Tri-Planet Council, and the BINWI is a subsidiary. Bureau for the Investigation of New and Worthy Inventions. A laugh, ain't it?"
Mark didn't think so. "That bureau," he said, "is an octopus preying on the inventive genius of three planets! Their spies are everywhere, moving unseen, biding their time. You know the new anti-grav deflectors the Patrollers are using? A man named Anton Kramer worked that out. He had it near perfection when he suddenly disappeared. A month later the deflectors came on the market." Mark's voice was bitter. "There've been dozens of other cases. The BINWI usually gets what it wants, even if it means murder."
Janus nodded. "There's a man aboard who'll agree with you on that! Professor Brownell. Perhaps you shall meet him—later." He turned his gaze to the four crew members. "All right, men, how about Mark Travers? Do we accept him as one of us? A vote is in order."