"You must have more money than sense," the waiter observed. "It'll be
twenty vikdals, Martian."
Heydrick flicked a hundred vikdal platinum coin on the table. The
octopus man uncoiled a tentacle and snatched it up, tested it for
weight, then shambled off. He returned with a dusty bottle and the
change. Heydrick let the change lie.
"Would you like to earn the rest of it?"
The octopus creature clucked somewhere within the unholy cavern which
served him as mouth. "I'd kill anyone on Ganymede for half of that," he
observed. "What'ya want me to do?"
Heydrick drew a deep breath. "You've a singer here who calls herself
the _Red Leopard of Mars_. When does she go on?"