Hydroponic Theater

"I designed a theater for them," Doug said. "Well, Rudy designed it, but I paid him to do it. And I found the space. I'm a genius."

"That's nice," I said. "You gonna grow it from scratch?"

"What? No. I'm not going to grow anything. I gave the designs to Mitch," Doug said. "With names of my favorite subcontractors. They need to learn how to work with Submind if they want to grow 'Crazy Doug's Theater of Life.'"

"That's funny," I said, deadpan. "You come up with that all by yourself."

"They aren't going to call it that," Doug said. "But they're going to write a play about me."

"That's not always good."

"There's no such thing as bad publicity."

"You start being generous," I said. "And people ask you for favors more often."

"They have this huge space in that rigged-up storage ship they thrust around," Doug said, ignoring me. "It's just wasted space in there--exposed to vacuum. As soon as I saw it, I was ready to charge in with vats and chimps, but Drifters can be a bit touchy about their ships."

"Yeah," I said. "I noticed. Mitch seemed almost insulted when I suggest his ships needed repair."

"They'll be able to seat over 100 people, and the stage can change scenery in a matter of minutes," Doug said. "Have I mentioned I'm a genius?"

"Yeah," I said. "Please stop."

"But it's a living stage," Doug said. "And it changes shape, and color, and stuff."

"You're a genius," I said. "I don't care. It's your turn to buy the drinks, and mine's empty."

"Mine's not."

"Then stop talking about yourself and drink up," I said.