"Your fingerprint, please?" He
pressed my finger into the still-soft surface of the plastic, indelibly
recording the print; waited a moment for it to harden, then laid the
chip in the slot of a pneumatic tube. I heard it whoosh away.
"They'll check your fingerprint against that when you board the ship.
Skylift isn't till dawn, but you can go aboard as soon as the process
crew finishes with her." He glanced at the monitor screen, where the
swarming crew were still doing inexplicable things to the immobile
spacecraft. "It will be another hour or two. Where are you going, Mr.
Cargill?"
"Some planet in the Hyades Cluster. Vainwal, I think, something like
that."
"What's it like there?"
"How should I know?" I'd never been there either. I only knew that
Vainwal had a red sun, and that the Terran Legate could use a trained
Intelligence officer. And _not_ pin him down to a desk.
There was respect, and even envy in the little man's voice. "Could
I--buy you a drink before you go aboard, Mr. Cargill?"
"Thanks, but I have a few loose ends to tie up.
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