"We'll be boarded in about twenty hours. They told me they couldn't trail too closely or your radar would have alerted you. They'll have their own crew to take over."
"Suppose they don't show up at all?" the officer needled.
"They will. Don't you worry your silly little head over that."
"But if they don't?" the prostrate man insisted. "You know, when you blow the main valves you can't close them again from the inside. You may have plenty of air for that suit, but how will you eat? Breathing is just one problem in a space suit."
"They'll be here inside of twenty hours, I told you."
"And you'll be dead."
"Why?"
"Because they double-crossed you good. Sure, they'll get the fattest cargo this can ever carried. But your share of it will be a shove outside. You'll be just as damned dead as I'll be."
"How did they cross me up?"
A ghost of a smile distorted the swollen face that had once been lean and handsome. "Find out," he said simply.