 What doesn't describe Jaro?
Red Witch of Mercury By EMMETT McDOWELL Death was Jaro Moynahan's stock in trade, and every planet had known his touch. But now, on Mercury, he was selling his guns into the weirdest of all his exploits—gambling his life against the soft touch of a woman's lips. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Summer 1945. The song was a rollicking, ribald ditty, a favorite of the planters and miners, the space pilots and army officers who frequented the garden. Without looking up, he said: "Have you spotted him?" Only the native waiters, the enigmatic, yellow-eyed Mercurians, seemed unaffected by the heat. "So," said the red-head; "you have come. "I did not want to call you in, Jaro Moynahan." The man, Jaro Moynahan, raised his glass. The revolution is scheduled to break during the Festival of the Rains. If it does, the Terrestrials here will be massacred. Jaro Moynahan wiped the sweat from his forehead with a fine duraweb handkerchief. "There is one man; he is the leader, the very soul of the revolution. The Mercurians worship him. Jaro Moynahan refilled their empty glasses. The girl started, glanced at the pianist, said with a shiver: "We can't locate Karfial Hodes. Don't look at me that way, Jaro. You've got to find him, Jaro. "Ah," said Jaro Moynahan; "so that's the way it is." One moment the garden was glowing in light, the next the hot black night swooped down on the revelers, pressing against their eyes like dark wool. Jaro Moynahan slipped sideways from the table. Across the table from Jaro there was the feel of movement; he could sense it. "Red!" said Jaro in a low voice. Jaro Moynahan sat quietly back down and poured himself another glass of Latonka. On the hot, teeming planet of Mercury it was as refreshing as a cold plunge. Peet controlled the Latonka trade for which there was a tremendous demand throughout the Universe. If so, he suspected that they had caught a tartar. As the Mercurian started to leave, a thought struck Jaro. For centuries they had lived most their lives beneath ground to escape the terrible rays of the sun. Only at night did they emerge to work their fields and ply their trades. Jaro shrugged, dismissed the waiter.
 he'll do anything for money
 he's curious  he's a murderer  he'll do anything for money  he's well-known on many planets