Castor started to explode,’ Pollux patted his arm. ‘We aren’t cops. Shucks, we aren’t old enough to be cops.’
‘Take your helmets off.’
‘Don’t do it,’ Castor cautioned. ‘He could recycle while we’re unsealed.’
Pollux went ahead and took his off; Castor hesitated, then followed. ‘Let us in,’ Pollux said mildly.
‘Why should I?’
‘We’re customers. We want to buy things.’
‘What you got to trade?’
‘We’ll pay cash.’
‘Cash!’ said the voice. ‘Banks! Governments! What you got to trade? Any chocolate?’
‘Cas,’ Pollux whispered, ‘have we got any chocolate left?’
‘Maybe six or seven pounds. Not more.’
‘Sure we got chocolate.’
‘Let me see it.’
Castor interrupted. ‘What sort of nonsense is this? Pol, let’s go back and see Mr Fries again. He’s a businessman.’
The voice moaned, ‘Oh, don’t do that! He’ll cheat you.’
‘Then open up!’
After a few seconds of silence the voice said wheedlingly,. ‘You look like nice boys. You wouldn’t hurt Charlie? Not old Charlie?’
‘Of course not. We want to trade with you.’
The door opened at last. In the gloom a face, etched by age and darkened by raw sunlight, peered out at them ‘Come in easy. Don’t try any tricks — I know you.’
Wondering if it were the sensible thing to do the boys pulled themselves in. When their eyes adjusted to the feeble circle of glow tube in the middle of the space they looked around while their host looked at them. The tank, large outside, seemed smaller by the way it was stuffed. As in Fries’ shop, every inch, every strut, every nook was crammed, but where the City Hall was neat, this was rank disorder, where Fries’ shop was rational, this was nightmare confusion. The air was rich enough but ripe with ancient and nameless odors.
Their host was a skinny monkey of a man, covered with a single dark garment, save for head, hands, and bare feet. It had once been, Pollux decided, heated underwear for space-suit use far out starside, or in caves.
Old Charlie stared at them, then grinned, reached up and scratched his neck with his big toe. ‘Nice boys,’ he said. ‘I knew you wouldn’t hurt Charlie. I was just foolin’.’
‘We wouldn’t hurt anybody. We just wanted to get aquainted, and do a little business.’
‘We want a — ‘ Pollux started; Castor’s elbow cut off the rest; Castor went on,
‘Nice place you’ve got here.’
‘Comfortable. Practical. Just right for a man with no nonsense about him. Good place for a man who likes to be quiet and think. Good place to read a book. You boys like to read?’
‘Sure. Love to.’
‘You want to see my books?’ Without waiting for an answer he dared like a bat into the gloom, came back. In a few moments with books in both hands and a half dozen held by his feet. He bumped to a stop with his elbows and offered them.
There were old-style bound books, most of them, the twins saw, ships’ manuals of ships long dead. Castor’s eyes widened when he saw the dates on some of them, and wondered what the Astrogation Institute would pay for them. Among them was a dog-eared copy of Mark Twain’s Life on the Mississippi.
‘Look ’em over, boys. Make yourselves comfortable. Bet you didn’t expect to find a literary man out here among these yokels. You boys can read, can’t you?’
‘Sure we can.’
‘Didn’t know. They teach such funny things nowadays. Quote a bit of latin to ’em and they look like you’re crazy in the head. You boys hungry? You want something to eat?’ He looked anxious.
They both assured him that they had fed well and recently; he looked relieved. ‘Old Charlie ain’t one to let a man go hungry, even if he hasn’t got enough for himself.’ Castor had noted a net of sealed rations; there must have been a thousand of them by conservative estimate. But the old man continued, ‘Seen the time, right herein this node — no, it was the Emmy Lou — when a man didn’t dare make breakfast without he barred his lock first and turned off his beacon. It was about that time that Lafe Dumont ate High-Grade Henderson. He was dead first, naturally — but it brought on a crisis in our community affairs. They formed up the vigilantes, what they call the Committee nowadays.’