"Promotion. We want to make you something--galactic co-ordinator, director, something like that--the job hasn't been named yet. In plain language, the big shot of the Second Galaxy, formerly known as Lundmark's Nebula." "But, Klono's brazen claws! Chief, I can't swing it--I haven't got jets enough!" "You always yelp about a deficiency of jets whenever a new job is mentioned, but we notice that you usually deliver the goods. Think it over for a minute. Who else could we wish such a job as that onto?" "Worsel," Kinnison declared without hesitation. "He's--" "Balloon juice!" snorted the older man. "Well, then ... ah ... er--" He stopped. Clarrissa opened her mouth; then shut it, ridiculously, without having uttered a word. "Go ahead, MacDougall--you are an interested party, you know." "No." She shook her spectacular head. "I'm not saying a word or thinking a thought to sway his decision one way or the other. Besides, he'd have to flit around as much then as now." "Some travel involved, of course," Haynes admitted. "All over that Galaxy, some in this one, and back and forth between the two. However, the _Dauntless_--or something newer, bigger, and faster--will be his private yacht, and I do not see why it is either necessary or desirable that his flits be solo." "Say, I never thought of that!" Kinnison blurted, and, as thoughts began to race through his mind of what he could do, with Chris beside him all the time, to straighten out the mess in the Second Galaxy: "Oh, Kim!" Clarrissa squealed in ecstasy, squeezing his arm even tighter against her side. "Hooked!" the surgeon general chortled in triumph. "But I'd have to retire!" That thought was the only thorn in Kinnison's whole wreath of roses. "I wouldn't like that." * * * * * "Certainly you wouldn't," Haynes agreed. "But remember that all such assignments are conditional, subject to approval, and with a very definite cancellation agreement in case of what the Lensman regards as an emergency. If a Gray Lensman had to give up his right to serve the Patrol in any way he considered himself most able, they'd have to shoot us all before they could make executives out of us. And finally, I don't see how the job we're talking about can be figured as any sort of a retirement. You will be as active as you are now--yes, more so, I think." "QX. I'll be there--I'll try it," Kinnison promised. "Now for some more news," Lacy announced. "Haynes didn't tell you, but he has been made president of the Galactic Council. You are his first appointment. I hate to say anything good about the old scoundrel, but he has one outstanding ability. He doesn't know much or do much himself, but he certainly can pick the men who have to do the work for him!" "There's something vastly more important than that," Haynes steered the acclaim away from himself.