‘You’re the owner?’ asked Castor.
‘Dealer Dan Ekizian, the man himself. What’s on your mind, boys? Time is money.’
‘Your, secretary told yon,’ Castor said ungraciously. ‘Spaceships.
Dealer Dan took his cigar out of his mouth and examined it. ‘Really? What would you boys want with a spacehip?’
Pollux muttered something; Castor said, ‘Do you usually do business out here?’ He glanced at the girl.
Ekizian followed his glance. ‘My mistake. Come inside.’ He opened the gate for them, led them into his office, and seated them. He ceremoniously offered them cigars; the boys refused politely. ‘Now out with it kids. Let’s not joke.’
Castor repeated, ‘Spaceships.’
He pursed his lips. ‘A luxury liner, maybe? I haven’t got one on the field at the moment but I can always broker a deal.’
Pollux stood up. ‘He’s making fun of us, Cas. Let’s go see the Hungarian.’
‘Wait a moment, Pol. Mr Ekizian, you’ve got a heap out there on the south side of the field, a class VII, model ’93 Detroiter. What’s your scrapmetal price on her and what does she mass?’
The dealer looked surprised. ‘That sweet little job? Why, I couldn’t afford to let that go as scrap. And anyhow, even at scrap that would come to a lot of money. If it is metal you boys want, I got it. Just tell me how much and what sort.’
‘We were talking about that Detroiter.’
‘I don’t believe I’ve met you boys before?’
‘Sorry, sir. I’m Castor Stone. This is my brother Pollux.’
‘Glad to meet you, Mr Stone. Stone… Stone? Any relation to — The “Unheavenly Twins” — that’s it.’
‘Smile when you say that,’ said Pollux.
‘Shut up, Pol. We’re the Stone twins.’
‘The frostproof rebreather valve, you invented it, didn’t you?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Say, I got one in my own suit. A good gimmick — you boys are quite the mechanics.’ He looked them over again. ‘Maybe you were really serious about a ship.’
‘Of course we were.’
‘Hmm… you’re not looking for scrap; you want something to get around it. I’ve got just the job for you, a General Motors Jumpbug, practically new. It’s been out on one grubstake job to a couple of thorium prospectors and I had to reclaim it. The hold ain’t even radioactive.’
‘Not interested.’
‘Better look at it. Automatic landing and three hops takes you right around the equator. Just the thing for a couple of lively, active boys.’
‘About that Detroiter — what’s your scrap price?’
Ekizian looked hurt. ‘That’s a deepspace vessel, son — It’s no use to you, as a ship. And I can’t let it go for scrap; that’s a clean job. It was a family yacht — never been pushed over six g, never had an emergency landing. It’s got hundreds of millions of miles still in it. I couldn’t let you scrap that ship, even if you were to pay me the factory price. It would be a shame. I love ships. Now take this Jumpbug…’
‘You can’t sell that Detroiter as anything but scrap,’ Castor answered. ‘It’s been sitting there two years that I know of. If you had hoped to sell her as a ship you wouldn’t have salvaged the computer. She’s pitted, her tubes are no good, and an overhaul would cost more than she’s worth. Now what’s her scrap price?’
Dealer Dan rocked back and forth in his chair; he seemed to be suffering. ‘Scrap that ship? Just fuel her up and she’s ready to go — Venus, Mars, even the Jovian satellites.’
‘What’s your cash price?’
‘Cash?’
‘Cash.’
Ekizian hesitated, then mentioned a price. Castor stood up and said, ‘You were right, Pollux. Let’s go see the Hungarian.’
The dealer looked pained. ‘If I were to write it off for my own use, I couldn’t cut that price — not in fairness to my partners.’
‘Come on, Pol.’
‘Look, boys, I can’t let you go over to the Hungarian’s. He’ll cheat you.’
Pollux looked savage. ‘Maybe he’ll do it politely.’
‘Shut up, Poll!’ Castor went on, ‘Sorry, Mr Ekizian, my brother isn’t housebroken. But we can’t do business.’ He stood up.
‘Wait a minute. That’s a good valve you boys thought up. I use it; I feel I owe you something.’ He named another and lower sum.