"All right," Aron interrupted him. "That's clever oratory, but money isn't all I'll take to sell out my empire. What else have you to offer, and remember, I'm not buying—just looking."
The agent made his case stronger by comparing plush civilization to the futile hermit's existence of a TA observer, throwing in a few remarks about the brevity of one's life to be wasted in such a barren pastime as five years in solitary confinement.
When he began talking about a comfortable married life in a civilized community, he noticed Aron growing distraught.
"Why does talk of marriage so disturb you?" he asked.
Aron looked at him with a sneer in his eyes, "You must know, you check your victims before you begin your Judas acts."
With a rueful grin, the agent replied, "That is one place our agents can't penetrate, your Personnel Records Office. You, being a hard man to know, have made very few acquaintances that we could approach to get your history."
Silence. Then Aron said, "All right, here's a bone I'll toss you. You may use it, I don't give a damn!
"My wife died five days ago on this planet." He said it with vehemence, probably imagining by some twist of thought that he was shocking, hurting the enemy agent, whereas he actually was deliberately shocking himself. Masochism.
"Your wife?" the agent was amazed. "I didn't know your TA observers took wives with them."
"I'll bet you didn't know. Though, most of them don't, come to think of it."