"Mara? That's a nice name. What part of Terra are you from? North America? New York?"
"I've been in New York," Mara said. "New York is very lovely." She was slender and pretty, with a cloud of dark hair tumbling down her neck, against her leather jacket.
They entered the lounge and stood undecided.
"Let's sit at a table," Mara said, looking around at the people at the bar, mostly men. "Perhaps that table over there."
"But someone's there already," Thacher said. The heavy-set business man had sat down at the table and deposited his sample case on the floor. "Do we want to sit with him?"
"Oh, it's all right," Mara said, crossing to the table. "May we sit here?" she said to the man.
The man looked up, half-rising. "It's a pleasure," he murmured. He studied Thacher intently. "However, a friend of mine will be joining me in a moment."
"I'm sure there's room enough for us all," Mara said. She seated herself and Thacher helped her with her chair. He sat down, too, glancing up suddenly at Mara and the business man. They were looking at each other almost as if something had passed between them. The man was middle-aged, with a florid face and tired, grey eyes. His hands were mottled with the veins showing thickly. At the moment he was tapping nervously.
"My name's Thacher," Thacher said to him, holding out his hand. "Bob Thacher. Since we're going to be together for a while we might as well get to know each other."
The man studied him. Slowly his hand came out. "Why not? My name's Erickson. Ralf Erickson."