Late in the day the Hop Supreme Three contacted Everson. He studied them in his visor, three elflike creatures whose eyes twinkled as merrily as if they had been genuine elves. To judge from first appearances alone, the journalist who had originally christened them hadn't done so badly. They did have the sharp leprechaun ears and the leathery skin of authentic gnomes, born of a marriage of different mythologies. It was not until you got a good all-around look that you became aware of features that no genuine elves or gnomes would have tolerated in themselves. The third eye near the top of the forehead, the fourth on the back of the head, the antenna-like third pair of arms that was ordinarily folded in back and unfolded only in moments of excitement, the ugly and apparently useless patch of blue skin below the neck, visible above the loose clothes they wore--all these testified to a race of creatures that had not been dreamed of in human folklore. The Spokesman waited for Everson, and as became the representative of an inferior race, the latter bowed humbly and said, "Greetings." "Greetings. We have heard excellent reports of you." "I have tried to carry out all that I promised." "You have done even better than we expected. When do you think the surrender will be complete?" He made a rapid mental calculation. "In thirty-seven Large Vibration Units." With no permanent sun of their own, the Hops based their time standards on the frequency of atomic vibrations. The thirty-seven Large Units were equivalent to about thirty hours. By that time, all the planned surrenders would have gone through on schedule, and the human race would be at the mercy of the Hops. "We congratulate you on your fidelity to your word. You shall receive a suitable reward." What, he wondered, did they regard as "suitable"? To kill him first, after they had no further use for him, and thus to spare him the sight of the extermination of his race? Or to keep him alive until the bitter end, to grant him a few extra hours of painful existence, in return for an act of betrayal on so grand a scale that their own history had never seen its like? He couldn't possibly guess, but he said simply, and still humbly, "I await your generous gift." The Three grimaced. Presumably, that was their equivalent of an amused smile. Then the Spokesman said, "One important surrender is yet incomplete. That of the Pleasure Planet." "I shall attend to that myself." "Good. And we shall attend personally to your reward." He would have said impertinently, if he had dared, that this act of virtue would be its own reward, but it would have been stupid to lose control of his tongue at this late stage. So he merely bowed humbly, and the next moment they had broken contact. He returned to his work. But during the day something happened that he had not expected. His wife arrived, and neither his secretary nor any of the guards dared keep her out. She came into his office quietly.