Earth Unaware (First Formic War)

perhaps I want a break as well?”
    Staggar shook his head. “No, it seems to me you boys want this one off the books, am I right? Don’t want old Ukko Jukes to know you’re skimming a little off the top for yourselves. Under-the-table mining, eh? Then you can scoot on home and tell your corporate stuffies that you didn’t quite mine as much as you hoped. And everything you sell here, as far as they’re concerned, never existed, while you drop a load of cash into your private bank accounts.” He laughed. “I wasn’t born on an asteroid, boys. I know a pocket scheme when I see one.”
    “Is this how you always do business?” Lem asked. “By insulting your customers first?”
    “We ain’t doing business until we understand one another,” said Staggar. “You corporates must have iron balls to show yourself around here. This ain’t the headquarters of the corporate fan club, if you catch my meaning. Lot of people here won’t be particularly happy to see you.”
    “We didn’t come to make friends,” said Lem. “We came to sell a few cylinders and have a decent time. I doubt your merchants will mind us giving them our money.”
    “My money, you mean,” said Staggar.
    “How much per cylinder?” asked Lem.
    “Can’t answer that until you have an account,” said Staggar. He began typing on his holopad. “Whose name should I put this in?”
    Lem and Chubs exchanged glances.
    “We’d rather avoid any record,” said Lem.
    “I’m sure you would,” said Staggar, “but I can’t buy without adding it to the inventory. You boys can skimp off your boss, but I can’t skimp off mine. You get an account or no sale.”
    “Put in my name,” said Chubs. “Chubs Zimmons.”
    Staggar looked at Lem. “Not your name, mister? Fancy clothes like that and from the way you were talking, I figured you for the captain.”
    “My name,” said Chubs.
    The drop master shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He typed some more. With his eyes still down he asked, “Out of curiosity, where did you boys find this iron-nickel?”
    “We’d rather not say,” said Lem. “Trade secrets. I’m sure you understand.”
    Staggar smiled. “I figured as much. How much of this do you want to sell?”
    “Depends on the price,” said Lem.
    “I’ll pay you by the tonnage,” said Staggar, “not by the cylinder.”
    “What price?” said Chubs.
    Staggar told them.
    Chubs was furious. “That’s outrageous. It’s worth twenty times that amount.”
    Staggar shrugged. “Take it or leave it.”
    Chubs turned to Lem. “He’s trying to rob us.”
    “That’s the cash price,” said Staggar. “If you want to trade in food or fuel, I might be able to go a little higher.”
    “A little higher?” said Chubs, angry. “You’re crazy if you think we’ll accept that.”
    “You came to me,” said Staggar. “I’m telling you my price. You don’t like it, go elsewhere.”
    “He’s right,” said Lem. “We should have gone to Jupiter. Come on, Chubs. We’re wasting this man’s time.” Lem turned and moved back toward the ship.
    Chubs squinted down at Staggar. “Yes, you seem to have so much business here, why not let a big shipment like ours slip away? It’s not like you need the money.” He looked Staggar up and down, showing his disgust at Staggar’s appearance, then turned away and followed Lem back to the ship.
    Lem had his hand on the airlock when Staggar shouted at them.
    “Wait. I have another price in case you boys got all stubborn and annoying, which you have.”
    “And what price is that?” said Lem.
    Staggar told them.
    “Double that amount and you’ve got a deal,” said Lem.
    “Double!” said Staggar.
    “You’ll still make a fortune,” said Lem. “Which, if my calculations are correct, is more than the alternative. Zero.”
    Staggar glowered. “You corporates are all the same. Cocky thugs, the whole lot of you.”
    “From one thug to another, I’ll take that as a compliment,” said Lem.
    *   *   *
    Lem had his senior officers dole out the cash to the crew. It was less than Lem had hoped to give them but more than enough for a two-day break. Because of the low price he had received for the cylinders, he had been forced to sell more than he had intended, but he didn’t worry. He still had more than enough to make an impression with the Board.
    The inside of the weigh station was more attractive than the exterior, though not by much. Wherever Lem and Chubs went, merchants clamored for