His eyes didn't shift, and Nathan's seemed to flicker only for an instant. But it was long enough for the cards in the spaceman's hand to puff into flame. He dropped them frantically.
His face lighted with rage and he half rose from his chair, but he said nothing. Nathan's lance hung in the same position.
"I think it would be a good idea for you and me to be friends," said Nathan.
"Yeah," said the spaceman, "it could be a good idea at that."
He rose and stepped slowly to the bar. "Straight Scotch for mine," he told Louey. He turned to the rest of the crowd. "Come on up, folks. My friend here is buying us drinks."
The hubbub resumed slowly as the crowd followed his leadership to the bar. The spaceman edged close to Nathan.
"Name's Tompkins," he said. "Kind of taking after your old man, I see. Hanging around with the Firebird, I mean. I knew Thymar pretty well when he was trailing her skirts. Kind of always figured that he did the trigger work and she got the reputation."
His loud drawl drew the other spacemen in a ring that was growing tighter about Nathan. It was an old move.
"Please don't crowd," said Nathan. "There isn't room at the bar for everybody, but there is plenty of drink."
The men glanced at Tompkins.