He swirled the liquor in his frosted glass, glanced about the table with a self-satisfied complacency that was almost ludicrous. Then he nodded his head slowly, acknowledging the compliment bestowed upon his judgment in selecting the after-dinned liquor. "Allow me," he corrected, "to congratulate you, sir, on a truly magnificent palate. You have named the exact vine and season. But ... danger? You spoke of danger?" The connoisseur glanced at the young lady across the table and permitted his eyebrows to arch significantly. "Perhaps it would be better to abandon the subject," he suggested. "After all, I do not wish to cause Miss Graham undue alarm--" The girl laughed. She did not seem, noted young Dr. Roswell, occupant of another seat at the captain's table, the least bit perturbed by Grossman's shadowy hint of menace. On the contrary, her already vivid features assumed new color at the scent of danger. Her gray-green eyes brightened, a flush highlighted the natural golden beauty of her cheeks; she bent forward interestedly. "Please, Mister Grossman ... don't stop because of me. I want to learn everything I can about Titan. It's going to be my home from now on, you know. I'll learn sooner or later." "Ye-e-es," acknowledged the heavy man grudgingly, "I suppose that is true. Your father is Commandant of the Space Patrol post at New Boston, isn't he? Hasn't _he_ warned you of the dangers you face in coming to live with him?" Again the girl laughed. "Hardly! You see, he doesn't know I'm coming. He'd have conniption fits if he knew I were aboard the _Gaea_. He's a lamb, really, but terribly old-fashioned. 'Women belong on Earth,' you know ... that sort of thing. He thinks I'm safe in a Terra boarding-school right now. If he _dreamed_ I were less than an hour off Titan--well, I'm afraid he'd be pale violet with anger." "And," reproved Grossman sternly, "rightly so. Your father is a wise man. Titan is no place for a girl of gentle breeding. It is a vile and treacherous pest-hole. It should never have been opened to Earth colonists!" Rockingham Roswell coughed gently. The young savant was taller than any man present, and but for the conservative cut of his clothing might have looked his true weight, but he carried himself in such a way as to seem more fragile than he really was. His lean, close-shaven cheeks were pale, and his tow-colored hair was meticulously plastered to his scalp. He wore thick-lensed, tortoise-shell glasses which he removed and polished nervously as he spoke. "In ... er ... in that case, Mister Grossman, it strikes me as a bit odd that you should ... er ... have established business headquarters on the satellite." Grossman glanced sharply at the slender man, snapped impatiently, "A business man cannot always pick and choose his locations, Doctor Roswell. He must follow the path of empire as it leads. Since there are Earthmen on Titan, someone must serve them. It is an obligation which cannot be refused--"