"I will be double damned. You know, Pete, I sent her a hundred-buck piece myself. Say, how is Junie O'Brien?" "Oh, fine. Under a different name, she's now our finance minister." Matheny stared out the wall, his hands twisting nervously behind his back. "There were no lies involved. She really does have a fatal disease. So do you and I. Every day we grow older." "Uh!" exclaimed Doran. "And then the Red Ankh Society. You must have seen or heard their ads. 'What mysterious knowledge did the Old Martians possess? What was the secret wisdom of the Ancient Aliens? Now the incredibly powerful semantics of the Red Ankh (not a religious organization) is available to a select few--' That's our largest dollar-earning enterprise." He would have liked to say it was his suggestion originally, but it would have been too presumptuous. He was talking to an Earthman, who had heard everything already. Doran whistled. "That's about all, so far," confessed Matheny. "Perhaps a con is our only hope. I've been wondering, maybe we could organize a Martian bucket shop, handling Martian securities, but--well, I don't know." "I think--" Doran removed the helmet and stood up. "Yes?" Matheny faced around, shivering with his own tension. "I may be able to find the man you want," said Doran. "I just may. It will take a few days and might get a little expensive." "You mean.... Mr. Doran--Gus--you could actually--" "I cannot promise anything yet except that I will try. Now you finish dressing. I will be down in the bar. And I will call up this girl I know. We deserve a celebration!" * * * * * Peri was tall. Peri was slim. Peri smoldered when she walked and exploded when she stretched. Her apartment was ivory and ebony, her sea-green dress was poured on, and the Neo-Sino mode had obviously been engineered to her personal specifications. She waved twelve inches of jade cigarette holder, lifted her glass and murmured throatily: "To you, Pete. To Mars." "I, I, I," stammered Matheny. He raised his own glass. It slopped over. "Oh, damn! I mean ... gosh, I'm so sorry, I--" "No harm done. You aren't used to our gravity yet." Peri extended a flawless leg out of her slit skirt and turned it about on the couch, presumably in search of a more comfortable position. "And it must seem terribly cramped here on Earth, Pete," she continued. "After roaming the desert, hunting, sleeping under the twin moons. Two moons! Why, what girl could resist that?" "Uh, well, as a matter of fact, the moons are barely visible," floundered Matheny. "Must you spoil my dreams?" she said. "When I think of Mars, the frontier, where men are still men, why, my breast swells with emotion." "Uh, yes." Matheny gulped. "Swell. Yes." She leaned closer to his chair. "Now that I've got you, don't think you'll get away," she smiled. "A live Martian, trapped!" Doran looked at his watch. "Well," he said, "I have got to get up tomorrow, so I had better run along now."