them now, there wouldn't even be the temporary
physical relief and release of a bottle of Irwadian brandy before
hitting the sack.

Which was another thing, Ramsey thought. Hitting the sack. Ah yes, you
filthy outworlder capitalist, hitting the sack. You owe that fish-eyed,
scale-skinned Irwadian landlady the rent money, so you'd better wait
until later, until much later, before sneaking back to your room.

* * * * *

He watched the gambling for another hour or so without risking his few
remaining credits. After a while a well-dressed Irwadian, drunk and
obviously slumming here in the Old Quarter, made his way over to the
table. His body scales were a glossy dark green and he wore glittering,
be-jeweled straps across his chest and an equally glittering, be-jeweled
weapons belt. Aside from these, in the approved Irwadian fashion, he was
quite naked. An anthropologist friend had once told Ramsey that once the
Irwadians had worn clothing, but since the coming in great number of the
outworlders they had stripped down, as though to prove how tough they
were in being able to withstand the freezing climate of their native
world. Actually, the Irwadian body-scales were superb insulation,
whether from heat or from cold.

"... Earthman watching me," the Irwadian in the be-jeweled straps said
arrogantly, placing a fat roll of credits on the table.

"I'm sorry," Ramsey said. "Were you talking to me?"

"I thertainly wath," lisped the Irwadian, his eyes blazing with drunken
hatred. "I thaid I won't have any Earthman thnooping over my thoulder
while I gamble, not unleth he'th gambling too."

"Better tell that to your Security Police," Ramsey said coldly but not
angrily. "I'm out of a job, so I don't have money to throw around. Go
ahead and tell me--" with a little smile--"you think it was my idea."

The Irwadian looked up haughtily. Evidently he was looking for trouble,
or could not hold his liquor, or both. The frenzy of planetarization,
Ramsey knew from bitter experience on other worlds, made irrational
behavior like this typical. He studied the drunken Irwadian carefully.
In all the time he'd spent on Irwadi, he'd never been able to tell a
native's age by his green, scale-skinned, fish-eyed poker-face. But the
glossy green scales covering face and body told Ramsey, along with the
sturdy muscles revealed by the lack of clothing, that the Irwadian was
in his prime, shorter than Ramsey by far, bu