I got out of there and went down to Martian Bankings in the devil of a hurry. They were apologetic over selling my grubstake lien, and were glad to advance me a few thousand credits against Joey-Cora's expectations. For once I passed the Argonaut Club without even looking back. A homo with a skinful of skohl is short on resistance, and resistance just then was what I needed most. When I reached the blastoff aprons, the _Annabelle's_ rusty old hulk was the sweetest sight I ever saw. I pointed her lovely, meteor-dented nose at the sky and blasted off, and the howling of her jets was like a lullaby in my ears. The starry backdrop of space ahead was like a cosmos-sized painting of all Creation, a master canvas done.