"In my capacity as Terrestrial Vice-Consul, I'm serving you with an injunction restraining you from further exploitation of the body known as 95739-A." He handed a paper across to Sam. "I also have here an Order impounding the vessel Gravel Gertie II."
Sam took the papers silently, sat looking at them. He looked up at Retief. "Funny. When you beat me at Drift and then threw the game so you wouldn't show me up in front of the boys, I figured you for a right guy. I've been spilling my heart out to you like you were my old grandma. An old-timer in the game like me." He dropped a hand, brought it up with a Browning 2mm pointed at Retief's chest.
"I could shoot you and dump you here with a slab over you, toss these papers in the John and hightail it with the load...."
"That wouldn't do you much good in the long run, Sam. Besides you're not a criminal or an idiot."
Sam chewed his lip. "My claim is on file in the Consulate, legal and proper. Maybe by now the grant's gone through."
"Other people have their eye on your rock, Sam. Ever meet a fellow called Leatherwell?"
"General Minerals, huh? They haven't got a leg to stand on."
"The last time I saw your claim, it was still lying in the pending file. Just a bundle of paper until it's validated by the Consul. If Leatherwell contests it ... well, his lawyers are on annual retainer. How long could you keep the suit going, Sam?"
Mancziewicz closed his helmet with a decisive snap, motioned to Retief to do the same. He opened the hatch, sat with the gun on Retief.