"Ta-ta," said Peri. Matheny rose. She pulled him down beside her. "Oh, no, you don't, Mars lad. I'm not through with you yet!" "But, but, but," said Matheny. Doran chuckled. "I'll meet you on the Terrace at fourteen hundred hours tomorrow," he said. "Have fun, Pete." The door closed on him. Peri slithered toward her guest. He felt a nudge and looked down. She had not actually touched him with her hands. "Gus is a good squiff," she said, "but I wondered if he'd ever go." "Why, why ... what do you mean?" croaked Matheny. "Haven't you guessed?" She kissed him. It was rather like being caught in a nuclear turbine with soft blades. _Matheny_, said Matheny, _you represent your planet._ _Matheny_, said Matheny, _shut up._ Time passed. "Have another drink," said Peri, "while I slip into something more comfortable." Her idea of comfort was modest in one sense of the word: a nightdress or something, like a breath of smoke, and a seat on Matheny's lap. "If you kiss me like that just once more," she breathed, "I'll forget I'm a nice girl." Matheny kissed her like that. The door crashed open. A large man stood there, breathing heavily. "What are you doing with my wife?" he bawled. "Sam!" screamed Peri. "I thought you were in Australia!" * * * * * "And he said he might settle out of court," finished Matheny. He stared in a numb fashion at his beer. "He'll come to my hotel room this afternoon. What am I going to do?" "It is a great shame," said Doran. "I never thought.... You know, he told everybody he would be gone on business for weeks yet. Pete, I am more sorry than I can express." "If he thinks I'll pay his miserable blackmail," bristled Matheny, "he can take his head and stick--" Doran shook his own. "I am sorry, Pete, but I would pay if I was you. He does have a case. It is too bad he just happened to be carrying that loaded camera, but he is a photographer and our laws on Earth are pretty strict about unlicensed correspondents. You could be very heavily fined as well as deported, plus all the civil-damage claims and the publicity. It would ruin your mission and even make trouble for the next man Mars sent." "But," stuttered Matheny, "b-but it's a badger game!" "Look," said Doran. He leaned over the table and gripped the Martian's shoulder. "I am your friend, see? I feel real bad this happened. In a way, it is my fault and I want to help you. So let me go talk to Sam Wendt. I will cool him off if I can. I will talk down his figure. It will still cost you, Pete, but you can pad your expense account, can't you? So we will both come see you today. That way there will be two people on your side, you and me, and Sam will not throw his weight around so much. You pay up in cash and it will be the end of the affair. I will see to that, pal!" Matheny stared at the small dapper man. His aloneness came to him like a blow in the stomach. _Et tu, Brute_, he thought.