"They're in some kind o' crooked business together. You want some more smoked turkey?"
"Sure. What have they got against my going to Jorgensen's Worlds?"
"Dunno. Hasn't been no tourists got in there fer six or eight months. I sure like a feller that can put it away. I was a big eater when I was yer age."
"I'll bet you can still handle it, Old Timer. What are Jorgensen's Worlds like?"
"One of 'em's cold as hell and three of 'em's colder. Most o' the Jorgies live on Svea; that's the least froze up. Man don't enjoy eatin' his own cookin' like he does somebody else's."
"That's where I'm lucky, Chip. What kind of cargo's the captain got aboard for Jorgensen's?"
"Derned if I know. In and out o' there like a grasshopper, ever few weeks. Don't never pick up no cargo. No tourists any more, like I says. Don't know what we even run in there for."
"Where are the passengers we have aboard headed?"
"To Alabaster. That's nine days' run in-sector from Jorgensen's. You ain't got another one of them cigars, have you?"
"Have one, Chip. I guess I was lucky to get space on this ship."