"Pappy Boltan's an old business associate," Quillan agreed. "Reliable sort of a guy. Doesn't mind taking a few chances either."
Velladon's protruding blue eyes measured him a moment. "We can check on those two, you know—"
"Check away," Quillan said.
Velladon nodded. "We will." He was silent for a second or two, then glanced over at Cooms. "There've been no leaks on our side," he remarked. "And they must have known about this for weeks! Of all the inept, bungling—"
"Ah, don't be too hard on the Brotherhood, commodore," Quillan said. "Leaks happen. You ought to know."
"What do you mean?" Velladon snapped.
"From what we heard, the Brotherhood's pulling you out of a hole here. You should feel rather kindly toward them."
The commodore stared at him reflectively. Then he grinned. "Could be I should," he said, "Did you come here alone?"
"Yes."
The commodore nodded. "If you're bluffing, God help you. If you're not, your group's in. Twenty per. No time for haggling—we can raise Yaco's price to cover it." He stood up, and Ryter stood up with him. "Marras," the commodore went on, "tell him what's happened. If he's half as hot as he sounds, he's the boy to put on that job. Let him get in on a little of the work for the twenty per cent. Ryter, come on. We—"