 Why does the narrator only want one bed?
I admit it: I didn't know if I was coming or going—but I know that if I stuck to the old man, I was a comer ... even if he was a goner! The golden Moon and the silver ship, symbols of greed. I came alongside and carefully started to lever the old man loose, one finger at a time. If a half dozen winos in Seattle hadn't helped me get them loose, Doc and I would have been wanted for the murder of a North American Mountie. All my great-grandfathers have it. I told the human no, thanks, and walked Doc toward the flophouse three doors down. It had happened a few times right after I first found him, but now it was worse. Beyond Six, Seven, Eight ... Somehow, inside me, I knew that these words were what I had been waiting for. They told everything I needed to know to become the most powerful man in the Solar Federation. I remembered that he was somebody very important whose name and work I had once known, even if now I knew him only as Doc. Pain was a pendulum within me, swinging from low throbbing bass to high screaming tenor. I listened to him for a moment, then tested and tasted the craving that crawled through my veins. He shut up at last and I laid him down again and put his arm back across his face. I don't know why, but nobody will help you if they think you are blotto.
 He wants to be able to buy himself a coffee later on
 He wants to be able to buy himself a coffee later on  He needs the spare money to buy food for himself and Doc  He is convinced everyone is trying to cheat him out of his money, and refuses to pay for more than he needs  He is frugal on principle, and knows that Doc needs supervision