“Having reached the city outskirts, the antigrav slowed down and began to descend. “I recommend visiting...” the pilot began as usual. He broke off the sentence in the middle. The four passengers did not look like inexperienced tourists who could easily be handed casino or nightclub coupons. However, they didn’t look like experienced tourists either. The pilot winced: over the many years that he drove the antigrav from the spaceport to the capital, he learned to accurately determine the size of tips and commissions. One would expect a candy wrapper from these four. The pilot took a quick glance into the cabin. All four of them have stern, concentrated faces. Discreet clothes. Dispassionate, as if looking into nowhere, glances. And everyone has a wide silver hoop that tightens their forehead. The rednecks are ringed, the pilot thought with hostility, turning away from the passengers...”