"It seems ... you know a lot about me!" Latham's voice was frightened. It didn't want to leave his throat. He was staring at the glittering blue tsith behind Penger. Penger motioned to the tall, angular man with the bright eyes. The man stepped to the bar. "This is George Elston of Interplanet Commerce. He's been looking for months for the right man. Frankly, I don't think it's you"--Latham felt the impact of Penger's scorn--"but he has a cruiser outside, and he can up gravs within half an hour in case you are interested." "I'm not--" Latham continued to stare at the glittering blue flagon just out of reach. "I thought not. Well, I've made you two offers. I'll buy your Josmian for credits or tsith!" Penger counted out a thousand credits and slapped them on the bar. He poured a glass of tsith and placed it down gently. "Your choice, Latham! A choice of escape!" * * * * * A terrible quiet had come over the room. Latham's eyes were fever-bright, burning deep in his skull. His stomach twisted like a nest of cold serpents. A choice of escape! There was no choice. There was only tsith. He had only to take it. Penger was right. He would die here within a year, but he had resigned himself to that. He would die out there on the Station, too; he would die a thousand deaths without tsith. Three years! Latham had heard of a few tsith hounds who tried it. He knew in every detail the agonies of body and mind a man went through, before the absence of the stuff either broke him of the terrible need, or left him a gibbering, mindless wreck. Not many of them ever pulled through it. Joel Latham thought of all this and made his choice. He slammed the Josmian on the bar; his trembling hand seized the glass. Penger shrugged and sighed as if this was what he expected. He took up the Josmian. "The deal is closed, Latham! I'd better put this away in my safe." He walked to the end of the bar. When he came back, the glass in Latham's hand was empty. Penger met George Elston's gaze. "You'll have to keep looking, Elston. You'll have to look for a man, not a--" The tall man smiled, stopping the words. He pointed to the mirror where a splash of blue, glutinous tsith was dripping. Latham threw the empty glass at Penger's head. It missed him and struck the mirror, bringing it down in shattering fragments. He seized the bundle of credits and sent them flying. "Keep these too, Penger! Keep them all, damn you! I won't need them where I'm going!" Tottering and pale, a fury still upon his lips, he seized Elston's arm. "Come on! Make it quick--" Elston hurried with him. At the door, he pointed across the compound. "The black cruiser, there beside the freighter. Get aboard. I'll be with you in five minutes--" Penger was at the door too. They watched Latham hurrying, stumbling, not looking back.