"What's your name?" Farrell asked suddenly.
"Tharp."
"Where do you work?"
"None of your business."
They walked in silence, the two moons casting double shadows from each of their bodies.
With a sinking sensation in his stomach, Farrell realized the odds were against his seeing his family again.
"How did you learn I had the money?" Farrell asked.
Tharp grinned broadly. "When anyone makes a reservation on the flight to Earth, the news gets around. It got around to me." His laughter sounded brittle in the thin atmosphere.
After what seemed like years, they arrived at the outskirts of Dankor. Although it was off-limits, the police patrolled infrequently and even those patrols were publicly known schedules.
Dankor was a small cluster of low crumbling buildings. The streets were littered with filth and pale Martians dressed in rags shuffled aimlessly with blank eyes as if their world had already died.