 What isn't a reason for narrator to be so skeptical of Gorb?
My three staff men, Auchinleck, Stebbins and Ludlow, walked shieldwise in front of me. The aliens came in every shape and form, in all colors and textures—and all of them eager for a Corrigan contract. The Galaxy is full of bizarre beings, but there's barely a species anywhere that can resist the old exhibitionist urge. Stuff like this: Want to visit Earth—see the Galaxy's most glittering and exclusive world? If you are a non-terrestrial, there may be a place for you in the Corrigan Institute of Morphological Science. J. F. Corrigan will hold interviews in person on Ghryne from Thirdday to Fifthday of Tenmonth. Broadsides like that, distributed wholesale in half a thousand languages, always bring them running. It's the best of its kind, the only really decent place where Earthmen can get a gander at the other species of the universe. There was a lidless eye at the top of his head and five lidded ones, one above each arm. "Before we begin, I'll need certain information about—" "I am a being of Regulus II," came the grave, booming reply, even before I had picked up the blank. "I'll be placed on exhibition at your Institute on Earth. I'll be required to remain on exhibit no more than one-third of each Terran sidereal day." But just because we needed him didn't mean we had to be extravagant in hiring him. I passed him along to Auchinleck to sign at anything short of top rate. It was the isolationism of the late 29th century that turned me into the successful proprietor of Corrigan's Institute, after some years as an impoverished carnival man in the Betelgeuse system. Back in 2903, the World Congress declared Terra off-bounds for non-terrestrial beings, as an offshoot of the Terra for Terrans movement. Before then, anyone could visit Earth. After the gate clanged down, a non-terrestrial could only get onto Sol III as a specimen in a scientific collection—in short, as an exhibit in a zoo. Every alien wants to see Earth once in his lifetime, and there's only one way he can do it. At the same time, we had turned away a dozen ursinoids, fifty of the reptilian natives of Ghryne, seven Sirian spiders, and no less than nineteen chlorine-breathing Procyonites wearing gas masks. They're gentle and likable beings, but their upkeep runs into literally tons of fresh meat a day, and not just any old kind of meat either.
 Gorb was asking for too much money
 Gorb looked just like an Earthling  Gorb was asking for too much money  Gorb had no proof to back up his claims  he had never heard of Wazzenazz