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167
The Status Civilization
·
Robert Sheckley
79
"What
does
it
mean?"
"I
don't
know,"
Myla
said.
The
Euphoriatorium
was
a
large,
garish
place
which
specialized
in
cut-rate
drugs
and
aphrodisiacs.
It
catered
mostly
to
a
peon
and
resident
clientele.
Barrent
felt
out
of
status
as
he
shouldered
his
way
through
the
crowd
and
asked
a
waiter
where
he
could
find
a
man
named
Illiardi.
The
waiter
pointed.
In
a
corner
booth,
Barrent
saw
a
bald,
thick-shouldered
man
sitting
over
a
tiny
glass
of
thanapiquita.
Barrent
went
over
and
introduced
himself.
"Pleased
to
meet
you,
sir,"
Illiardi
said,
showing
the
obligatory
respect
of
a
Second
Class
Resident
for
a
Privileged
Citizen.
"How
can
I
be
of
service?"
"I
want
to
ask
you
a
few
questions
about
Earth,"
Barrent
said.
"I
can't
remember
much
about
the
place,"
Illiardi
said.
"But
you're
welcome
to
anything
I
know."
"Do
you
remember
a
man
named
Therkaler?"
"Certainly,"
Illiardi
said.
"Thin
fellow.
Cross-eyed.
As
mean
a
man
as
you
could
find."
"Were
you
present
when
he
was
killed?"
"I
was
there.
It
was
the
first
thing
I
remembered
when
I
got
off
the
ship."
"Did
you
see
who
killed
him?"
Illiardi
looked
puzzled.
"I
didn't
have
to
see.
I
killed
him."
Barrent
forced
himself
to
speak
in
a
calm,
steady
voice.
"Are
you
sure
of
that?
Are
you
absolutely
certain?"
"Of
course
I'm
sure,"
Illiardi
said.
"And
I'll
fight
any
man
who
tries
to
take
credit
for
it.
I
killed
Therkaler,
and
he
deserved
worse
than
that."
"When
you
killed
him,"
Barrent
asked,
"did
you
see
me
anywhere
around?"
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