XVI

“Since I am in the stronger position here, I think you’ll find it wise to answer my questions. Don’t be afraid of shocking me. You would be surprised at the things I know about.”

No, Angelica love, I wouldn’t be surprised at all. But I couldn’t just tell all without a little resistance. “You’re the one behind this revolution idea, aren’t you,” I said as a statement, not a question.

“Yes,” she said, laying her cards on the table so she could see mine.

“Well if you must know then,” I said, “I was smuggling. It is a very interesting occupation if you happen to know what to take where. For a number of years I found it was a most lucrative business. Finally though, a number of governments felt I was giving them unfair competition, since they were the only ones allowed to cheat the public. With the pressure on I returned to my sluggish native land for a period of rest.”

Angel-mine was buying no sealed packages and gave me an exhaustive cross-examination into my smuggling career that showed she had more than a passing knowledge of the field herself. I had of course no trouble answering her questions, since in my day I have turned many a megacredit in this illegal fashion. The only thing I was afraid of was making it too good, so I described a career of a successful but still young and not too professional operator. All the time I was talking I tried to live the role and believe everything I said. This was a crucial time when I must let drop no hints or mannerisms that might bring Slippery Jim diGriz to her mind. I had to be the local punk who had made good and was still on my way up in the universe.

Mind you⁠—our talk was of course all most casual, and carried on in an atmosphere of passing drinks and lighting cigarettes all designed to relax me enough to make a few slips. I did of course, slipping in a lie or two about my successes that she would catch and credit to boyish enthusiasm. When the chitchat slowed I tried a question of my own.