CHAPTER 4There was the usual crowd at the spaceport. Neatly dressed in his travelling gear of knee-boots, laminated pants and blouse of discreet lavender, a scarlet cummerbund and long jacket to match, Kevin hefted his briefcase and looked sourly at the motley collection of men, women and children all loaded with various bundles and bales. To hell with it, he decided, this was no way to start an adventure. Tarvainen’s money could buy him VIP service.
As he turned away a weasel-faced man wearing faded chartreuse sidled close.
“You wanna place close to the head of the line, mister? A good spot going cheap.”
Kevin hesitated. “What do you call cheap?”
“He’s been waiting ten hours. Call it five an hour, uh?”
“Call it four,” suggested Kevin.
“Four-fifty?”
“It’s a deal.” Kevin followed the
