Mike Mallison and Nicko were in the office when the new clients entered. A girl and an elderly man. The girl smiled at Mike. Then she looked at Nicko and a sharp involuntary scream got past her lips. "It's all right, lady," Mike said. "He won't hurt you. He never injures a client. Won't you sit down?" Nicko wasn't offended. He was used to women reacting that way at first sight of him. In fact, the hideous little Martian misfit had caused even strong men to turn pale. The elderly man was also staring but with more clinical interest than horror. He turned his eyes on Mike and said, "I am Professor Arnold Brandon. This is my daughter, Doree." "I'm Mike Mallison." He indicated with a nod. "This is my assistant, Nicko." Nicko grinned, thus baring his tusks and adding new hideousness to his face. He waved his four arms and said, "I'm delighted to make your acquaintances. I hope your trip to Outer Port was not too tiring." Nicko's tones were bell-like—his diction perfect. The girl gasped. The man blinked, then turned again to Mike. "I hope you received our electrogram." "Yes, but it was a little vague. It merely said you would arrive at Outer Port as of this date." "Quite. We wish to charter your ship for a cruise." Mike considered. The Space Queen was at liberty but he wasn't sure about these two. Other than the fact that the man was old, the girl gray-eyed, slim, and damned pretty, he knew nothing about them. They certainly didn't look like big game hunters.
