. Moon Glow is like being born again.

The sale of it has been illegal for several years, for no reason that
I can think of except that the Builders, who make the laws, can not
bear to see metal people have fun.

Of course, a part of the blame rests on such individuals as X-101,
who, when lubricated with Moon Glow, insists upon dancing around on
large, cast-iron feet to the hazard of all toes in his vicinity. He is
thin and long jointed, and he goes "creak, creak," in a weird,
sing-song fashion as he dances. It is a shameful, ludicrous sight.

Then there was DC-5, who tore down the 300 feet long equipment hangar
of the Builders one night. He had over-indulged.

* * * * *

I do not feel responsible for these things. If I had not sold them the
Moon Glow, someone else would have done so. Besides, I am only a
wholesaler. Benny buys everything that I am able to produce in my
little laboratory hidden out in the Dumps.

Just now, by Benny's attitude, I knew that something was very wrong.
"What is the matter?" I said. "Is it the revenue agents?"

"I do not know," said BNE-96 in that curious, flat voice of his that
is incapable of inflection. "I do not know, but there are visitors of
importance from Earth. It could mean anything, but I have a
premonition of disaster. Jon tipped me off."

He meant Jon Rogeson, of course, who was the peace officer here in
Argon City, and the only one of the Builders I had ever met who did
not look down upon a metal person. When sober he was a clever person
who always looked out for our interests here.

"What are they like?" I asked in some fear, for I had six vials of
Moon Glow with me at the moment.

"I have not seen them, but there is one who is high in the government,
and his wife. There are half a dozen others of the Builder race, and
one of the new type metal persons."

I had met the she who must have been the wife. "They hate us," I said.
"We can expect only evil from these persons."

"You may be right. If you have any merchandise with you, I will take
it, but do not risk bringing more here until they have gone."

I produced the vials of Moon Glow, and he paid me in Phobos credits,
which are good for a specified number of refuelings at the Central
fueling station.

Benny put the vials away and he went into the bar. There was the usual
jostling crowd of hard-bitten Earth miners, and of the metal people
who come to lose their loneliness. I recogn