"Good heavens!" the girl exploded. "Are you just going to sit there guzzling beer while pirates take over the town?" She stared at him incredulously.
"What do you suggest I do?" the comptroller asked. "We haven't anything to fight with. There's no way we can get help. As far as I can see there's nothing we can do—not yet anyway." He calmly lifted his glass.
"You mean we're just going to sit here?" the girl gaped.
"Sure. The others left to hide their money and valuables. I've got nothing to hide."
"What about that stuff the Navy has cached in their warehouse?" Lee asked. "That new rocket fuel their destroyers use when they need a little extra push. Isn't that worth hiding?"
"The hyper-degenerate-thorium, you mean? I'd like to hide that somewhere," Marc conceded. "But where do you hide ten tons of stuff in five minutes? Besides, it wouldn't do the raiders any good. Too hot. It'll burn out their jets. They'd go up like an A-bomb two minutes after they threw it on. They know that. Only thing they could do with it is sell it to Venus. Not that that would be bad. Shortage of H.D.T.'s may be the chief reason why there's been no war started yet. But for now there's nothing you and I can do." Calmly he lit a cigarette.
"Of course," he went on, smiling, "we could bum a ride out with some of the company men. No doubt they're all hightailing it away from here in their space-buggies."
"I'm surprised," Lee said with a trace of sarcasm, "that you're not doing just that, leaving me and the other women to the beasts!"
Marc eyed her unblinkingly. "You know as well as I do that most of the females on this asteroid take pirates in their stride. They might even welcome a change of partners. As for you"—he paused—"you stick close to me and keep your pretty mouth shut. I think we'll manage somehow."
In silence they walked back to the comptroller's office.