‘Sorry. We can’t afford it.’ He started to follow Pollux out.
‘Wait!’ Ekizian mentioned a third price. ‘Cash,’ he added.
‘Of course. And you pay the sales tax?’
‘Well… for a cash deal, yes.’
‘Good.’
‘Sit down, gentlemen. I’ll call in my girl and we’ll stat the papers.’
‘No hurry,’ answered Castor. ‘We’ve still got to see what the Hungarian has on his lot — and the government salvage lot, too.’
‘Huh? That price doesn’t stand unless you deal right now. Dealer Dan, they call me. I got no time to waste dickering twice.’
‘Nor have we. See you tomorrow. If it hasn’t sold we can take up where we left off.’
‘If you expect me to hold that price, I’ll have to have a nominal option payment.’
‘Oh, no, I wouldn’t expect you to pass up a sale for us. If you can sell it by tomorrow, we wouldn’t think of standing in your way. Come on, Pol.’
Ekizian shrugged. ‘Been nice meeting you, boys.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
As they closed the lock behind them and waited for it to cycle, Pollux said, ‘You should have paid him an option.’
His brother looked at him. ‘You’re retarded, Junior.’
On leaving Dealer Dan’s office the boys headed for the spaceport, intending to catch the passenger tube back to the city, fifty miles west of the port. They had less than thirty minutes if they were to get home for supper on time — unimportant in itself but Castor disliked starting a family debate on the defensive over a side issue. He kept hurrying Pollux along.
Their route took them through the grounds of General Synthetics Corporation, square miles of giant cracking plants, sun screens, condensers, fractionating columns, all sorts of huge machinery to take advantage of the burning heat, the bitter cold, and the endless vacuum for industrial chemical engineering purposes — a Danté-esque jungle of unlikely shapes. The boys paid no attention to it; they were used to it. They hurried down the company road in the flying leaps the Moon’s low gravity permitted, making twenty miles an hour. Half way to the port they were overtaken by a company tractor; Pollux flagged it down.
As he ground to a stop, the driver spoke to them via his cab radio: ‘What do you want?’
‘Are you meeting the Terra shuttle?’
‘Subject to the whims of fate — yes.’
‘It’s Jefferson,’ said Pollux. ‘Hey, Jeff — it’s Cas and Pol. Drop us at the tube station, will you?’
‘Climb on the rack. Mind the volcano — come up the usual way.’ As they did so he went on, ‘What brings you two carrot-topped accident-prones to this far reach of culture?’
Castor hesitated and glanced at Pollux. They had known Jefferson James for some time, having bowled against him in the city league. He was an old Moon hand but not a native, having come to Luna before they were born to gather color for a novel. The novel was still unfinished.
Pollux nodded. Castor said, ‘Jeff, can you keep a secret?’
‘Certainly — but permit me to point out that these radios are not directional. See your attorney before admitting any criminal act or intention.’
Castor looked around; aside from two tractor trucks in the distance no one seemed to be in line-of-sight. ‘We’re going into business.’
‘When were you out of it?’
‘This is a new line — interplanetary trade. We’re going to buy our own ship and run it ourselves.’
The driver whistled. ‘Remind me to sell Four-Planet Export short. When does this blitz take place?’
‘We’re shopping for a ship now. Know of a good buy?’
‘I’ll alert my spies.’ He shut up, being busy thereafter with the heavier traffic near the spaceport. Presently he said, ‘Here’s your stop.’ As the boys climbed down from the rack of the truck he added, ‘If you need a crewman, keep me in mind.’
‘Okay, Jeff. And thanks for the lift.’
Despite the lift they were late. A squad of marine M.P.s heading into the city on duty pre-empted the first tube car; by the time the next arrived the ship from Earth had grounded and its passengers took priority. Thereafter they got tangled with the changing shift from the synthetics plant. It was well past suppertime when they arrived at their family’s apartment a half mile down inside Luna city