to sing with the trio. She had hardly enough voice to be heard
over Jorgensen's stories. I noticed Konnel straining to listen.

Finally, Jorgensen saw it too. Leaving Howlet and Meadows grinning at
a highly improbable adventure, he slapped the boy on the shoulder.

"I see you noticed Lilac Malone, boy. Like to buy her coffee?"

"C-coffee?" stuttered Konnel.

"Made with water," I reminded him. "Awful waste here. Like champagne."

"I'll tell her she's invited," said Jorgensen, waggling a finger at
her.

"The fellows are going out in the morning," I tried to head him off.
"They don't have much time--"

"All the more reason to meet Lilac while they can!"

We watched her finish her song. She had rhythm, and the lavender dress
swirled cutely around her in the Martian gravity; but, of course,
Lilac would never have made a singer on Earth. Her voice was more
good-natured than musical.

She arrived with the coffee, said "hello" to me, waved good-bye to
Jorgensen's back, and set out to get acquainted with the others.
Catching Howlet's wink, and suspecting that he was used to getting
Konnel back to space-ships, I relaxed and offered to show Meadows the
back room.

He muttered something about his gray hairs, but came along after an
amused glance at Lilac and Konnel.

* * * * *

Jorgensen's gambling room was different from the bar and dining room
as they were from each other. Decorations were simple. Drapes of
velvety synthetic, dyed the deep green that Martian colonists like,
covered the walls. Indirect lighting gave a pretty gleam to the metal
gadgets on the tables. Because they used a heavier ball, roulette
looked about the same as on Earth, and the same went for the dice
games.

"Interesting," Meadows murmured, feeling in his pocket.

He pointed a thumb at the _planets_ table. It was round, with a small,
rectangular projection for the operator's controls and calculator. In
the nine differently colored circular tracks, rolled little globes
representing the planets. These orbits were connected by spirals of
corresponding colors, symbolic of ship orbits swooping inward or
outward to other planets.

"You pick yourself two planets," I explained. "For better odds, pick a
start and a destination. The man throws his switch and each little
ball is kicked around its groove by a random number of electrical
impulses."

"And how do I win?"

"Say you pick Venus-to-Saturn. See that silver s