"How do I know," Krannon snapped. "I trade with them, I don’t make love to them. If I ever saw one, I’d shoot him down on the spot." He flexed his fingers and his gun jumped in and out of his hand as he said it. Jason quietly let himself out.
Lying on his bunk, resting his gravity–weary body, he searched for a way to get Krannon to change the delivery date. His millions of credits were worthless on this world without currency. If the man couldn’t be convinced, he had to be bribed. With what? Jason’s eyes touched the locker where his off–world clothing still hung, and he had an idea.
It was morning before he could return to the food warehouse—and one day closer to his deadline. Krannon didn’t bother to look up from his work when Jason came in.
"Do you want this?" Jason asked, handing the outcast a flat gold case inset with a single large diamond. Krannon grunted and turned it over in his hands.
"A toy," he said. "What is it good for?"
"Well, when you press this button you get a light." A flame appeared through a hole in the top. Krannon started to hand it back.
"What do I need a little fire for? Here, keep it."
"Wait a second," Jason said, "that’s not all it does. When you press the jewel in the center one of these comes out." A black pellet the size of his fingernail dropped into his palm. "A grenade, made of solid ulranite. Just squeeze it hard and throw. Three seconds later it explodes with enough force to blast open this building."
This time Krannon almost smiled as he reached for the case. Destructive and death–dealing weapons are like candy to a Pyrran. While he looked at it Jason made his offer.
"The case and bombs are yours if you move the date of your next delivery up to tomorrow—and let me go with you."
"Be here at 0500," Krannon said. "We leave early."
