"Oh? Then—"
"It was your name that brought me. I recognized it on the beamings."
"Then this is a social call, eh? Well, that's good. I don't get much company these days. Sit down, have a reef."
Wolzek sat down but refused the smoke. "I know quite a bit about your setup," he said. "You and your three tenants. It's tough, Eric."
"Oh, things could be worse." Eric forced a laugh. "It isn't as if my bucks depended on the number of tenants in the building. Government subsidizes this place. I'm sure of a job as long as I live."
"As long as you live." Wolzek stared at him in a way he didn't like. "And just how long do you figure that to be?"
"I'm only twenty-six," Eric answered. "According to statistics, that gives me maybe another sixty years."
"Statistics!" Wolzek said it like a dirty word. "Your life-expectancy isn't determined by statistics any more. I say you don't have sixty months left. Perhaps not even sixty days."
"What are you trying to hand me?"
"The truth. And don't go looking for a silver platter underneath it, either."