"That's a chance we'll both have to take. I'm taking a chance on you
anyhow, but don't try any smart tricks. I always cover bets. The boxes
will be officially released for tomorrow's auction. All I ask is a
look inside at Roper's gimmick, whatever it is, so I'll know whether to
buy transuranics or not. If you buy the boxes the contents are yours.
Fair enough?"
Torry grunted. "If they sell low enough you'll get your look after I've
had mine."
"See that I do," warned Grannar. "And a word of advice. You can't
import weapons to Mars, but there's no law says you can't buy one here
and sleep with it. Shall I drop you at your hotel?"
The half track was nearing the domed city. A gigantic half bubble of
polarized plastic rose from the plain to enclose both the old Martian
town and the bustling, strident metropolis of New Chicago. From the
desert the dome was nearly invisible, but the architectural jumbles
looked like a forest of lighted Christmas trees appearing by magic in
the swift dusk of the red planet.