There it was, the
little kiosk in which was embedded a perfect epsilon ruby.

      The human who
attended the kiosk did not know the ruby was perfect and therefore worth far,
far more than he was offering in trade. Such perfection! Such beauty! Two-Five
peered through the grating at the gem, his right tail trembling with emotion. He
clutched the pouch with his trade offer.

      The ventilation
shaft here would be tricky to exit without being seen, but it could be done. Here,
on this side of things, hurry was not so needful. Lazily, he wove a message of
tranquility with his left tail. The air flow from this grate headed directly
toward the jeweled kiosk. By the time he could exit unobserved, the human would
be well-pleased with his offer.

      “You want what?
What are you doing here? This area is for station personnel only!”

      Two-Five held up
the pouch with the cash, head lowered
in respectful submission, as the kiosk attendant, more acceptably smooth than
the beige and hairy Jackson male, loomed over him. This human was not as peaceable
as he should have been, for as long as Two-Five had woven his message of
tranquility into the air, but it would have to do. Hurry was needful now; he
had to complete the trade and return to the ventilation shaft before the
uniformed warriors came.