“I learned it,” said Meek.
“You learned it?”
“Sure, from a book. I saved my money and I studied. I always wanted to see the Solar System and here I am.”
Dazedly, the mechanic took off his greasy cap, laid it carefully on the desk, reached out for a spacesuit that hung from a wall hook.
“Afraid this job might take a while,” he said. “Especially if we have to wait for parts. Have to get them in from Titan City. Why don’t you go over to the Inn. Tell Moe I sent you. They’ll treat you right.”
“Thank you,” said Meek, “but there’s something else I’m wondering about. There was another sign out there. Something about educated bugs.”
“Oh, them,” said the mechanic. “They belong to Gus Hamilton. Maybe belong ain’t the right word because they were on the rock before Gus took over. Anyhow, Gus is mighty proud of them, although at times they sure run him ragged. First year they almost drove him loopy trying to figure out what kind of game they were playing.”
“Game?” asked Meek, wondering if he was being hoaxed.
“Sure, game. Like checkers. Only it ain’t. Not chess, neither. Even worse than that. Bugs dig themselves a batch of holes, then choose up sides and play for hours. About the time Gus would think he had it figured out, they’d change the rules and throw him off again.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” protested Meek.