"No thank you, sir."
Randolph and Burke raised their eyehoods humorously. Then they looked a little less amused as Barnes' voice hardened.
"You might like it, Martian. Try it." He pulled a tough green wad of noedan from his pouch and tore off a strip. "I think the sooner you Martians get used to doing as we do and liking the things we like, the better off you'll be. Now take this noedan and use it."
"Oh, for hell's sake, Barnes—" Randolph put out a hand. "Let him alone. He doesn't want it. It makes him sick."
The Intelligence Officer got up from the bar and started for the table, his eyes hard, his aural fronds quivering with emotion.
Burke spotted him and seemed to shrug. "You asked for it, kid," he told Randolph. "Give my love to the home worlds. You're through on Mars."
"Maybe that's what I wanted," said Randolph.
The Intelligence Officer halted beside the table and Randolph got up without a word and left with him.
Burke and Barnes watched them down the winding clay street, saw them enter a portable teleport booth, one of the several scattered about Kinkaaka to facilitate trips to and from the space-cube. The door closed, the light blinked on and off, then the booth was open again, empty.