"I don't know."
"Why not?"
"My mother never told me. I don't think she knows. In the name of God, why don't you send Number 3...."
"What's your nationality?"
"I'm supposed to be a Swede."
"What do you mean, 'supposed'?"
"Will you open one of those beers?"
"I asked you...."
Swenson made a notation on the Dispatch Sheet and spun around in the swivel chair. "I was born on a Swallow Class ship in space between the Moon and Earth. My mother said my father was a Swede. She was Irish. I was delivered and circumcised by a rabbi who happened to be on board. The ship was of Venutian registry, but was owned by a Czechoslovakian company. Now you figure it out."
"How did you happen to come here?"