When no one had come up for two or three minutes, Andru waved, and Kriss carried the bowl to the bar. The offworlders glanced up as he walked by; some smiled, then looked away almost shyly, as though uncertain how to react to him.
He gave the bowl to Andru, who overturned it, spilling thin plastic bills and ceramic coins across the wet, dark wood of the bar. He counted quickly. “One hundred and seven feds. That’s fifty-three and a half apiece.” He pushed Kriss’s share over to him, then moved to the far end of the bar to serve someone.
Kriss stared at the money in awe. Over fifty feds! He’d never seen that much money in his life. “Maybe I’ll buy my own spaceship!” he breathed, then gathered up the coins and bills and dropped them into his pocket, where they made a pleasantly large lump. H
