He clucked at the Dustie, who was about to go after one of the shiny
buttons on the captain's blouse. The little brown creature hopped over
and settled on Pete's knee. "We've been used to seeing Captain
Schooner."

The captain and Nathan exchanged glances. "Captain Schooner has retired
from Security Service," the captain said shortly. "You won't be seeing
him again. But we have a cargo for your colony. You may send these
people over to the ship to start unloading now, if you wish--" his eye
swept the circle of windburned faces--"while Nathan and I discuss
certain matters with you here."

Nobody moved for a moment. Then Pete nodded to Mario. "Take the boys out
to unload, Jack. We'll see you back here in an hour or so."

"Pete, are you sure--"

"Don't worry. Take Mel and Hank along to lend a hand." Pete turned back
to Captain Varga. "Suppose we go inside to more comfortable quarters,"
he said. "We're always glad to have word from Earth."

They passed through a dark, smelly corridor into Pete's personal
quarters. For a colony house, if wasn't bad--good plastic chairs, a
hand-made rug on the floor, even one of Mary Turner's paintings on the
wall, and several of the weird, stylized carvings the Dusties had done
for Pete. But the place smelled of tar and sweat, and Captain Varga's
nose wrinkled in distaste. Nathan drew out a large silk handkerchief and
wiped his pink hands, touching his nose daintily.

The Dustie hopped into the room ahead of them and settled into the
biggest, most comfortable chair. Pete snapped his fingers sharply, and
the brown creature jumped down again like a naughty child and climbed up
on Pete's knee. The captain glanced at the chair with disgust and sat
down in another. "Do you actually let those horrid creatures have the
run of your house?" he asked.

"Why not?" Pete said. "We have the run of their planet. They're quite
harmless, really. And quite clean."

The captain sniffed. "Nasty things. Might find a use for the furs,
though. They look quite soft."

"We don't kill Dusties," said Pete coolly. "They're friendly, and
intelligent too, in a childish sort of way." He looked at the captain
and Nathan, and decided not to put on the coffee pot. "Now what's the
trouble?"

"No trouble at all," the captain said, "except the trouble you choose to
make. You have your year's _taaro_ ready for shipping?"

"Of course."

The captain took out a small pencil on a chain and began to twirl it.
"How m