"Let's not fool each other, dinAlt," Kerk said impatiently. "You've never worked at an honest job in your entire life. You're a professional gambler and that's why I'm here to see you." Jason forced down his anger and threw the gun to the other end of the couch so he wouldn't be tempted to commit suicide. He _had_ hoped no one knew him on Cassylia and was looking forward to a big kill at the Casino. He would worry about that later. This weight-lifter type seemed to know all the answers. Let him plot the course for a while and see where it led. "All right, what do you want?" * * * * * Kerk dropped into a chair that creaked ominously under his weight, and dug an envelope out of one pocket. He flipped through it quickly and dropped a handful of gleaming Galactic Exchange notes onto the table. Jason glanced at them--then sat up suddenly. "What are they--forgeries?" he asked, holding one up to the light. "They're real enough," Kerk told him, "I picked them up at the bank. Exactly twenty-seven bills--or twenty-seven million credits. I want you to use them as a bankroll when you go to the Casino tonight. Gamble with them and win." They looked real enough--and they could be checked. Jason fingered them thoughtfully while he examined the other man. "I don't know what you have in mind," he said. "But you realize I can't make any guarantees. I gamble--but I don't always win ..." "You gamble--and you win when you want to," Kerk said grimly. "We looked into that quite carefully before I came to you." "If you mean to say that I cheat--" Carefully, Jason grabbed his temper again and held it down. There was no future in getting annoyed. Kerk continued in the same level voice, ignoring Jason's growing anger. "Maybe you don't call it cheating, frankly I don't care. As far as I'm concerned you could have your suit lined with aces and electromagnets in your boots. As long as you _won_. I'm not here to discuss moral points with you. I said I had a proposition. "We have worked hard for that money--but it still isn't enough. To be precise, we need three billion credits. The only way to get that sum is by gambling--with these twenty-seven million as bankroll." "And what do I get out of it?" Jason asked the question coolly, as if any bit of the fantastic proposition made sense. "Everything above the three billion you can keep, that should be fair enough. You're not risking your own money, but you stand to make enough to keep you for life if you win." "And if I lose--?" Kerk thought for a moment, not liking the taste of the idea. "Yes--there is the chance you might lose, I hadn't thought about that." He reached a decision. "If you lose--well I suppose that is just a risk we will have to take. Though I think I would kill you then. The ones who died to get the twenty-seven million deserve at least that." He said it quietly, without malice, and it was more of a promise than a threat.