Abruptly she stood up. "Goodnight gentlemen. Call me if I'm needed."
Roberds nodded acknowledgement. The door to the side room closed behind her. Peterson hauled his chair over to the desk. He sniffed the air.
"Damned rat!" he whispered harshly. "They ought to make a law forcing him to wear dark glasses!"
Roberds smiled wearily. "His eyes do get a man, don't they?"
"I'd like to burn 'em out!" Peterson snarled.
Rat helped Greaseball fill the water tanks to capacity with fuel, checked the concentrated rations and grunted.
Greaseball looked over the interior and chuckled. "The boss said strip her, and strip her I did. All right, Rat, outside." He followed the Centaurian out, and pulled the ladder away from the lip of the lock. The two walked across the strip of sandy soil to the office building. On tiptoes, Greaseball poked his head through the door panel. "All set."
Roberds nodded at him. "Stick with it!" and jerked a thumb at Rat outside. Grease nodded understanding.
"Okay, Rat, you can go to bed now." He dropped the ladder against the wall and sat on it. "Good night." He watched Rat walk slowly away.