The Status Civilization

"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?"