He was silent for a long time. Finally he sighed and answered, "Happiness is not to be found in wine, nor in food, nor in beautiful women, nor even in wealth and power. It is from within, what you have done, what you are in the eyes of your fellow man." He looked as though he was about to say more, but he fell silent, his eyes on something far away, although he seemed to be looking directly into my face. Then a light returned to them and he came back to our conversation. "I am sorry," he said. "For a moment you reminded me of someone I knew long and long ago. But now I must be on my way." He left his drink half-finished on the bar and walked wearily to the door. Sam took his glass away and wiped the bar reflectively. "Whenever he's here, I can't turn down any halftrippers or other spacebums," he complained. "I tried it once, and the old boy looked so pathetic that I damn near cried myself." "He seems to be quite a character," I said, only half-interested. "Sure," Sam said. "Haven't you heard about Joseph? He's immortal." "What?" I said, startled. * * * * * "Immortal. You know, he lives forever." He poured me another brandy and leaned on the bar. His other customers had left and he was obviously in the mood for talking. "I thought everybody knew about Joseph," he went on. "He was one of the first spacebarons, a real bigshot, controlled the whole of Calypso; him and his brother. They not only personally owned all of the satellite, but even all of the space lines that served it. When it came to law there, he was judge, jury, and owner of the courthouse and jail. Brother, that was one monopoly." "You mean that old man that was just here?" I said in amazement. "That's right. Joseph, we call him now. He probably had a longer name then. It was a long time ago. "Anyway, to get back to the story, one day a space liner radios in that it wants to make an emergency landing on Calypso for medical assistance. They had some virulent disease on board and the passengers and crew were dying like flies. "Well, this brother of Joseph, Micheal, or something like that his name was, advises Joseph not to give them permission to land. The captain of the liner pleads with him, but Joseph tells him to move on, he doesn't want to take any chances. The ship tried to make the next port, I forget just what it was, but, anyway, to cut it short, they all died. That's what started things churning in Joseph's bailiwick; a full-scale revolution, no less." "You missed something there," I said. "The people wouldn't have been expected to be so upset. After all, no matter how mistaken, he must have thought he was acting in the interests of everyone on Calypso."