"As a consequence we find ourselves with only one alternative--a happy chance resulting from your arrival at Areopolis with this, ah, smiley." I got it then. At first glance it was a neat enough idea; the catch was that Shanig didn't know his smileys. He couldn't put himself under Joey's euphoric golden-rule spell and still direct a big business. And besides that I hadn't gone through the slimy hells of those Mimasan jungles to rehabilitate a burned-out old credit-shark like Hume Shanig. Joey belonged to humanity, to the poor overwrought hypertensive homos who really needed him. "If you want my smiley to keep this old goat from snapping his leash," I said, "the answer is no. Joey would quiet him down like a country churchyard, sure, but--" Shanig cut me short by smacking a peremptory hand on his desk top. "That will be all, Dr. Humphrey," he barked. "Get out." * * * * * When the medic had gone Shanig turned on me. "I have no time to waste in haggling, Bailey. How much do you ask for this creature?" I thought it over and it still read the same. More was at stake than the wasting of Joey's talents on a bad hat like Shanig. There was the inevitable blowup that must come later. When Shanig found out what being too long under a smiley's influence could do to a homo with his financial responsibilities, there would be the devil to pay for fair. "I don't want trouble," I said, trying to be diplomatic. "But I can't sell Joey to you. If you'd let me explain--" "You have a commitment against your prospect ship, I believe," Shanig cut in. "An obligation commonly referred to as a grubstake lien, is it not?" "With Martian Bankings," I admitted. "It's a couple of weeks overdue at the moment but Martian is a friendly outfit. They'll wait for their credits until I sell the smiley." I couldn't be sure whether Shanig laughed or barked. "I anticipated your reluctance to sell so I purchased your lien from Martian Bankings two hours ago. I know your reputed fondness for your ship, and I understand too that a similar craft cannot be bought for twice the amount of your financial obligation." He had me cold. It was a dirty trick of Martian's to sell me out, but I could see how it was when Shanig put the screws to them. "You are in no position to bargain with me, you simple fool," Shanig said, looking more than ever like a dissipated buzzard. "I shall make you one offer before claiming forfeit--the cancellation of your debt plus five thousand credits in cash." He shouldn't have baited me with the _Annabelle_. I love that rusty old tub the way some homos love their women. And after being sandbagged with Shanig's kind of persuasion I began to figure that selling Joey to him was as neat a revenge as I could ask. He deserved it--plus. "All right," I said. "You've bought a smiley."