"You did look pale," said Thumbs, busy stripping a pistol. "Aw, crud, bad spring. Gotta toss it." He did so, adding to the small pile in the macroplas box in the corner of the tent. "But I figured you’d pay to find out about the corp limo. And if I can get nuyen for toasting some downtown yammer-heads, that’s granite. Merry Xmas."