Joseph Krieg looked at the man intently, a curious fire of hope in his eyes. "Free?"
Steen nodded. "And because it is free, it is unobtainable. It is not generally known, Joe, but the only way one can be buried in Manhattan Park is by permission of the Galactic Congress. Only certified heroes are so honored, and they are few and far between. Remember the great bacteriologist Manuel de Artega? It took the Galactic Congress more than fifty years of debate after he died to decide to let him in—but after all, the only claim to fame he had was that he saved a few trillion lives from the Green Plague. He was buried here some thirteen years ago. There has been no one since, and no one in sight."
Steen patted the man on the shoulder. "Now, come along, Joe. I want you to take a look at Amundsen Park before you make up your mind. It's not at all cold at the Pole these days—lovely flowers, trees...."
"No!" Joseph Krieg cried, standing up. Steen and Braun both rose too. "There must be a way!"
The Consolator smiled inwardly. The fish was responding magnificently. Now to push the bait just a little closer....
"Now, now, Joe. You mustn't get upset about this. The other Parks are just as fine, I assure you," Steen murmured in consolation.
Krieg shook his head. "You can't tell me that sometime or other someone didn't buy his way into Manhattan. It stands to reason...."
"Now, Joe. You're taking this much too hard...."
"I tell you, I know people. And that's all the Galactic Congress is made up of—people. Tell me the truth, Steen. Has anyone ever bribed his way into this Park?"
Steen frowned and turned his head slightly away from the man. Just a flick or two more of the line....