were nice traits and very helpful ones, but in the bear pit of
galactic business they wouldn't keep their owner alive for five
minutes. The interworld trade sharks would have skinned him long
ago and divided the stripped carcass of his company between them.

But Outworld was a "respected" company. The exchange reports said
so - which made Alexander a different breed of cat entirely.
Still, his surface was perfect - polished and impenetrable as a
duralloy turret on one of the latest Brotherhood battleships.
Kennon regretted he wasn't a sensitive. It would be nice to know
what Alexander really was.

"Tell me, sir," Kennon asked. "What are the real reasons that
make you think I'm the man you want?"

"And you're the young man who's so insistent on a personal
privacy rider," Alexander chuckled. "However, there's no harm
telling you. There are several reasons.

"You're from a culture whose name is a byword for moral
integrity. That makes you a good risk so far as your ethics are
concerned. In addition you're the product of one of the finest
educational systems in the galaxy-and you have proven your
intelligence to my satisfaction. You also showed me that you
weren't a spineless 'yes man.' And finally, you have a spirit of
adventure. Not one in a million of your people would do what you
have done. What more could an entrepreneur ask of a prospective
employee?"

Kennon sighed and gave up. Alexander wasn't going to reveal a