“Are you free?”
“Until the third of August.”
“Terran, I see.”
“Right. Anything wrong in being Terran?”
“Not at all. Just an observation. I’m Timothy Martin of the Martian Water Commission and I’d like to hire you for a trip to Uranus.”
“My name is Charles Farradyne and maybe we can make a deal. What’s the job, Mr. Martin?” Farradyne eyed the room furtively, wondering if the mention of his name would ring any cracked bells among the spacemen. It didn’t seem to, and Farradyne did not know whether to be gratified at man’s forgetfulness or depressed.
“Only three of us and some instruments,” said Martin.
“That’s hiking all the way to Uranus empty, you know.”
“I know, but this is of the utmost importance. Government business.”
“It’s up to you; I’ll haul you out there on a three passenge
