Quoron nodded and handed me a pen. “A pleasure,” I said, and signed the
paper with a flourish. Then I waited.
“There is something else, Mr. Hennesy?” Quoron demanded, looking at my
signature.
I was a little dubious, and my face must have showed it. “Yeah. Yeah,
there is. First, how much?”
“How much what?”
“How much do I get paid?”
“Umm. That’s hard to say. It will be up to my client. But the important
thing now is that I can guarantee you good living quarters and good
food.”
My stomach gurgled. He was right--that _was_ the important thing. “But
one more thing,” I said. “How can you have this job for me without
hearing my singing and without even contacting anyone about me? Er, you
don’t mind the question, do you?”
Quoron shrugged. “No. Why should I mind? I can assure you this: there
is a great demand for your talent, and the job is a certainty. Any
further questions?”