 What did Tolliver tell Betty that was actually true?
TOLLIVER'S ORBIT was slow—but it wasn't boring. By H. B. FYFE [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The glowing semi-disk of Jupiter was more than half a million miles distant. "Try not to be simple—for once!" growled Jeffers. "A little percentage here and there on the cargoes never shows by the time figures get back to Earth. Maybe they live soft back on Earth since the mines and the Jovian satellite colonies grew; but they were out here in the beginning, most of them. "You know I took this piloting job just to scrape up money for an advanced engineering degree back on Earth. It had been built for Ganymede, but not for Jeffers. Five hundred credits a week base pay, five hundred for hazardous duty. "Okay I can't fire you legally—as long as you report for work," grumbled Jeffers, by now a shade more ruddy. "Doesn't matter," answered Tolliver, grinning amiably. I just want to get back to Earth with a clean rep. Tolliver began to have his doubts the next day; which was "Tuesday" by the arbitrary calender constructed to match Ganymede's week-long journey around Jupiter. His contract guaranteed a pilot's rating, but someone had neglected to specify the type of craft to be piloted. On the bulletin board, Tolliver's name stood out beside the number of one of the airtight tractors used between the dome city and the spaceport, or for hauling cross-country to one of the mining domes. He soon found that there was nothing for him to do but hang around the garage in case a spaceship should land. Tolliver turned to see Red Higgins, a regular driver. Sometimes there's no reason but them for sending a ship back with a crew instead of in an economy orbit. Under a portable, double-chambered plastic dome blown up outside the ship's airlock, a crewman helped him load two trunks and a collection of bags into the tractor. She was about five feet four and moved as if she walked lightly even in stronger gravity than Ganymede's. Her trim coiffure was a shade too blonde which served to set off both the blue of her eyes and the cap apparently won from one of the pilots. "Sorry to keep you waiting," she said, sliding into the seat beside Tolliver. "Sure," agreed Tolliver thinking, Ohmigod!
 how much he's making to work on Ganymede
 he regularly drives armored vehicles on missions  the rock and ice slides kill people often  volcanic puffballs pop out through the frozen crust  how much he's making to work on Ganymede