how you stay in business."
"Someday I will,” Ryan assured her.
"How about you?” said the Mouse to Penelope. “What'll you have?"
"A glass of water, please,” said the girl.
"Right,” said Ryan. “That'll be 300 credits."
" What? ” demanded the Mouse.
"300 credits,” repeated Ryan.
"For a glass of water?” said the Mouse incredulously.
"Nobody's holding a gun to your head,” said Ryan cheerfully. “If you think you can get it cheaper somewhere else, go right ahead."
"Now I see how you make a living,” said the Mouse irritably.
"Out here, water's worth a hell of a lot more than a bed,” replied Ryan. “There's none on the surface for 200 miles in any direction, and the miners use what little exists below the ground to extract their diamonds."
"Can't you recycle it?"
He shook his head. “Radioactive. Two glasses of it and you won't need a flashlight when you go out at night."
The Mouse pulled out a wad of credits and slapped them down on the table, and a moment later Ryan came out from behind the bar carrying a beer and a glass of water.
"I've sold water for a lot more than this from time to time,” he explained pleasantly. “You wouldn't believe what a man with a pocketful of diamonds will pay to fill his canteen before he sets out for Haggard—especially if he hasn't told his partners that he's leaving."
The Mouse looked out a dusty window at the vast expanse of sand and rock. “Yes, I think I would."
"By the way, how long are you and the child going to be staying?"
"At 300 credits for a glass of water, not as long as I thought."
"If you're short of money, there's work to be had,” said Ryan.
"I don't know the first thing about mining."
Ryan shook his head. “I didn't mean that.” He paused. “I've got a little enterprise going on the top floor. I can always use a healthy woman ... and the little girl could earn a bundle."
"Not interested,” said the Mouse.
"You'd be surprised how generous some of these miners can be."
"Forget it."
Ryan shrugged. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know."
The Mouse simply glared at him, and he walked back to his position behind the bar.
"Mind if I ask you a question?” he said as he watched her drain her beer.
"As long as it's not on the same subject."
"What are you and your daughter doing out here, anyway?"
"Maybe I'm married to one of the miners."
"Maybe I'm the Sultan of Sirius V,” he shot back with a smile. “If you belonged to one of the miners, you'd have asked after him."
"I don't belong to anyone,” said the Mouse, objecting to his choice of words.
"That's just what I meant,” agreed Ryan. “So why are you here?"
"I like the desert."
"The police are after you, huh?” continued Ryan. “What'd you do back in Haggard?"
"Nothing."
"No one comes to Ophir for the climate and the view. If you tell me who's after you, maybe I can keep an eye out for them."
"We're looking for the man who robbed us,” piped up Penelope. “Someone said he was in Ophir."
"I notice he left you enough money to rent a landcar and pay for your water,” said Ryan, highly amused. “Nice try, kid."
"It's true,” chimed in the Mouse. “My parents rented the car and loaned me the money."
"And they live in Haggard?"
"That's right."
"What's on the corner of 4th and Quatermaine?” asked Ryan.
"The Mayor's office."
"The Ophir Ballroom,” said Ryan. “That's where we got the name for this place."
"Not any more,” said the Mouse without missing a beat. “They tore it down three years ago."
"I don't believe you."
The Mouse shrugged. “Believe anything you want."
He stared at her for a minute, then matched her shrug with one of his own. “What the hell. It's none of my business."
"Right."
"I'm just making conversation, lady. It gets lonely around here until dark."
"Then the miners come?"
"That's right."
"How many of them?"
"It depends. Most of them have bubble modules out there, but you can't really relax or socialize in one.
"Someday I will,” Ryan assured her.
"How about you?” said the Mouse to Penelope. “What'll you have?"
"A glass of water, please,” said the girl.
"Right,” said Ryan. “That'll be 300 credits."
" What? ” demanded the Mouse.
"300 credits,” repeated Ryan.
"For a glass of water?” said the Mouse incredulously.
"Nobody's holding a gun to your head,” said Ryan cheerfully. “If you think you can get it cheaper somewhere else, go right ahead."
"Now I see how you make a living,” said the Mouse irritably.
"Out here, water's worth a hell of a lot more than a bed,” replied Ryan. “There's none on the surface for 200 miles in any direction, and the miners use what little exists below the ground to extract their diamonds."
"Can't you recycle it?"
He shook his head. “Radioactive. Two glasses of it and you won't need a flashlight when you go out at night."
The Mouse pulled out a wad of credits and slapped them down on the table, and a moment later Ryan came out from behind the bar carrying a beer and a glass of water.
"I've sold water for a lot more than this from time to time,” he explained pleasantly. “You wouldn't believe what a man with a pocketful of diamonds will pay to fill his canteen before he sets out for Haggard—especially if he hasn't told his partners that he's leaving."
The Mouse looked out a dusty window at the vast expanse of sand and rock. “Yes, I think I would."
"By the way, how long are you and the child going to be staying?"
"At 300 credits for a glass of water, not as long as I thought."
"If you're short of money, there's work to be had,” said Ryan.
"I don't know the first thing about mining."
Ryan shook his head. “I didn't mean that.” He paused. “I've got a little enterprise going on the top floor. I can always use a healthy woman ... and the little girl could earn a bundle."
"Not interested,” said the Mouse.
"You'd be surprised how generous some of these miners can be."
"Forget it."
Ryan shrugged. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know."
The Mouse simply glared at him, and he walked back to his position behind the bar.
"Mind if I ask you a question?” he said as he watched her drain her beer.
"As long as it's not on the same subject."
"What are you and your daughter doing out here, anyway?"
"Maybe I'm married to one of the miners."
"Maybe I'm the Sultan of Sirius V,” he shot back with a smile. “If you belonged to one of the miners, you'd have asked after him."
"I don't belong to anyone,” said the Mouse, objecting to his choice of words.
"That's just what I meant,” agreed Ryan. “So why are you here?"
"I like the desert."
"The police are after you, huh?” continued Ryan. “What'd you do back in Haggard?"
"Nothing."
"No one comes to Ophir for the climate and the view. If you tell me who's after you, maybe I can keep an eye out for them."
"We're looking for the man who robbed us,” piped up Penelope. “Someone said he was in Ophir."
"I notice he left you enough money to rent a landcar and pay for your water,” said Ryan, highly amused. “Nice try, kid."
"It's true,” chimed in the Mouse. “My parents rented the car and loaned me the money."
"And they live in Haggard?"
"That's right."
"What's on the corner of 4th and Quatermaine?” asked Ryan.
"The Mayor's office."
"The Ophir Ballroom,” said Ryan. “That's where we got the name for this place."
"Not any more,” said the Mouse without missing a beat. “They tore it down three years ago."
"I don't believe you."
The Mouse shrugged. “Believe anything you want."
He stared at her for a minute, then matched her shrug with one of his own. “What the hell. It's none of my business."
"Right."
"I'm just making conversation, lady. It gets lonely around here until dark."
"Then the miners come?"
"That's right."
"How many of them?"
"It depends. Most of them have bubble modules out there, but you can't really relax or socialize in one.
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