Once he had been a tall, straight spaceman, free as the galaxies. Now Joel Latham was a tsith-addict, a beach-comber at Venusport. Maybe he'd get one last chance....
; almost, he forgot about the Josmian. But somewhere deep in his alchemy was a well of stubbornness he never knew he possessed.
He clutched at Penger's sleeve as the man turned away. He found himself screaming, "Then I'll go without the gun! I'm going to get that Josmian, do you hear? You'll believe me then! You'll believe when you see it, Penger!"
Penger shook him away. "Sure, sure. You bring me a Josmian. Then we'll talk a deal."
He wanted to ask for a drink, just one drink of tsith right now, but Latham had learned the essential fact that there could be no compromising with this man. He reeled away. His brief outburst had left him weak and trembling. Nevertheless, he went stumbling toward the looming wall of jungle.
He heard Penger's voice, a little annoyed: "Where are you going?"
Latham stumbled on.
"You fool, you don't know these jungles! You'll die in there! You won't last an hour!"
Latham didn't look back. Penger didn't call again. Latham could almost im
