choice
about this thing?"

"Don't I have any say in my own life?" Alan asked hotly. "Suppose I
don't want to be a bank robber? You didn't tell me----"

"I didn't need to. Listen, boy--I didn't bring you in here for my
health. I brought you in because I saw you had the potential for this
job. I've coddled you along for more than three months, now. Given you a
valuable education in how to get along on this planet. Now I'm asking
you to pay me back, a little. Byng told the truth: you're indispensable
to this project. Your personal feelings are irrelevant just now."

"Who says?"

"I do."

Alan stared coldly at Hawkes' transformed face. "Max, I didn't bargain
for a share in your bank-robbing syndicate. I don't want any part of it.
Let's call it quits right now. I've turned over quite a few thousand
credits of my winnings to you. Give me five hundred and keep the rest.
It's your pay for my room and board and instruction the last three
months. You go your way, I'll go mine."

Hawkes laughed sharply. "Just as simple as that? I pocket your winnings
and you walk out of here? How dumb do you think I am? You know the names
of the syndicate, you know the plans, you know everything. A lot of
people would pay big money for an advance tip on this bit." He shook his
head. "I'll go my way and you'll go it too, Alan. Or else. You know what
that _or else_ means."

Angrily Alan said, "You'd kill me, too, if I backed down now. Friendship
doesn't mean a thing to you. 'Help us rob this bank, or else.'"

Hawkes' expression changed again; he smiled warmly, and when he spoke
his voice was almost wheedling. "Listen, Alan, we've been planning this
thing for months. I put down seven thousand to clear your brother, just
so I'd be sure of getting your cooperation. I tell you there's no
danger. I didn't mean to threaten you--but try to see my side of it. You
_have_ to help out!"

Alan looked at him curiously. "How come you're so hot to rob the bank,
Max? You earn a fortune every night. You don't need a million more
credits."

"No. I don't. But some of them do. Johnny Byng does; and Kovak, too--he
owes Bryson thirty thousand. But I organized the scheme." Hawkes was
pleading now. "Alan, I'm bored. Deadly bored. Gambling isn't gambling
for me; I'm too good. I never lose except when I want to. So I need to
get my kicks someplace else. This is it. But it won't come off without
you."

They were silent for a moment. Alan realized that Hawkes a