Cosmo sat back in surprise.
"Why?"
"That's my secret," said the beefy planter. "Yes sir, that's my secret. But I'm a business man, Cosmo. Show me where the Ormoo feeds, and I'll make it worth your while."
"Five thousand monad," Cosmo hazarded.
Bemmelman didn't blink an eye. "Five thousand monad," he agreed.
Cosmo sat back, his face blank. The planter, he realized, had no more idea of paying him five thousand monad than he had of adopting him. He'd agreed to the preposterous sum too readily. Cosmo's green eyes hardened.
"And suppose I refuse."
"But you won't. You can't. No sir. If you refused, I'll be forced to kill you and trace the bird myself."
"The devil you will." Cosmo could feel sweat starting from his forehead. "That bird's savage as a tiger. You've already tried to trace it to its feeding ground, haven't you? That's why you planted a spy among my men, wasn't it?"