"Nuts to the gentleman's esteem," Arena said.
"You thought you'd squeeze me out, Arena," Stenn said. "You didn't need me any more. You intended to let Maclamore and Williams go and have them followed. There was no danger of an escape, since you knew they'd find no fuel."
He turned to me. "During your years in space, Mr. Maclamore, technology moved on. And politics as well. Power fuels could be used to construct bombs. Ergo, all stations were converted for short half-life secondaries, and the primary materials stored at Fort Knox. You would have found yourself fuelless and therefore helpless. Mr. Arena would have arrived soon thereafter to seize the scout-boat."
"What would he want with the boat without fuel?" I asked.
"Mr. Arena was foresighted enough to stock up some years ago," Stenn said. "I understand he has enough metal hoarded to power your entire squadron for an indefinite time."
"Why tell this guy that?" Arena asked. "Kick him to hell out of here and let's get busy. You gab too much."
"I see that I'm tacitly reinstated as a partner," Stenn said. "Most gratifying."
"Max Arena is no welcher," Arena said. "You tipped me to the tapes, so you're in."
"Besides which you perhaps sense that I have other valuable contributions to make."
"I figure you to pull your weight."