 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. Stuff like this: Want to visit Earth—see the Galaxy's most glittering and exclusive world? 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. 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. Before then, anyone could visit Earth. I'm a telepath—not the kind that reads minds, just the kind that projects. The demand for beings from Wazzenazz XIII is pretty low these days.
 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