"No," Cramer said, "I don't care what the analyzers say. You can't get something for nothing." "This is beyond price," Neilson sighed contentedly. He moved to a wall mirror. "Not even a little retinal contraction. The dosage is so small the silicon base couldn't hurt you even if you took one an hour for the rest of your life. And there can't be any hangover." "No law on the books against it and I don't think the public would tolerate a prohibition. This stuff is actually _good_ for you!" Hartley exulted. "And we are the only ones on Earth who have it for at least the next few weeks!" He jotted down some calculations. "Figure a hundred thousand doses in the capsule and at least fifty dollars a microscopic flake slice, seventy-five dollars, more probably. Anybody can lay his hands on cryogenic capsules--they're all over the place. We'd only need a few dozen runners and I can get them easily enough. Are we in business, Hartley?" "Let's give a free sample to your friends first." "Fair enough, they're going to be among our best customers." Cramer watched in horrified disgust as the others were summoned and willingly passed over into the fully-conscious ecstasy. But why the horror? Why the disgust? he demanded of himself. Why condemn something that even the Specimen Analyzer showed to be wholly beneficial? He couldn't find the tangible reason but that didn't matter; there had to be something wrong somewhere. "Still not with it?" Hartley asked after a while. "I'd just as soon not bother quite yet." "Well, you do know what you're missing," shrugged the Captain. "My Probationary rights don't give the privilege to insist on this. As I told you, complaining to authority wouldn't change anything but now I'll give you the biggest reason why. Even in the highly unlikely case of their believing your story, they couldn't move against me because they'd know it wouldn't matter. First I'd see to it that word got out about germ-joy. There are hundreds of craft on the Mars run that can detour into the asteroid belt and pick up a supply once they know what to look for. Look at all the freighters that do a little bootlegging on the side now--there'd be no way to seal off that supply." "I can see that," Cramer agreed. "I'm not interested in reforming anything. I just don't want to be personally involved." "Perfectly all right," Hartley said thoughtfully. "Each man to his own tastes." Then he moved away to discuss business arrangements with his host. _How do I get out of here?_ Cramer wondered. _And how do I get anybody to listen, to believe such a wild story from a Probationary? Or would it be best to string along with them and see what happens?_ * * * * *