Clancey was wiping the table with a towel when I walked over. She shook her head and said, “I don’t know why you let them in here.”
“Who?”
“The Aglians. God, always such a mess.”
“Secretions. It’s involuntary. Those suits they wear absorb most of it, recycle the moisture for drinking water. But some leaks out.”
She was on her third towel, and had moved on to wiping down the chairs. “It’s disgusting. I’m going to have to mop this whole section. Honestly, boss, can’t you tell them to go somewhere else?”
I just smiled. “Their money spends just fine.”
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