* * * * * It was no coincidence that the Jupiter craft were arriving steadily when the battleship came. Construction had been scheduled with this in mind, that the Sword should be approaching conjunction with the king planet, making direct shuttle service feasible, just as the chemical plant went into service. We need not consider how much struggle and heartbreak had gone into meeting that schedule. As for the battleship, she appeared because the fact that a Station in just this orbit was about to commence operations was news important enough to cross the Solar System and push through many strata of bureaucracy. The heads of the recently elected North American government became suddenly, fully aware of what had been going on. Michael Blades was outside, overseeing the installation of a receptor, when his earplug buzzed. He thrust his chin against the tuning plate, switching from gang to interoffice band. "Mike?" said Avis Page's voice, "You're wanted up front." "Now?" he objected. "Whatever for?" "Courtesy visit from the NASS _Altair_. You've lost track of time, my boy." "What the ... the jumping blue blazes are you talking about? We've had our courtesy visit. Jimmy and I both went over to pay our respects, and we had Rear Admiral Hulse here to dinner. What more do they expect, for Harry's sake?" "Don't you remember? Since there wasn't room to entertain his officers, you promised to take them on a personal guided tour later. I made the appointment the very next watch. Now's the hour." "Oh, yes, it comes back to me. Yeah. Hulse brought a magnum of champagne with him, and after so long a time drinking recycled water, my capacity was shot to pieces. I got a warm glow of good fellowship on, and offered--Let Jimmy handle it, I'm busy." "The party's too large, he says. You'll have to take half of them. Their gig will dock in thirty minutes." "Well, depute somebody else." "That'd be rude, Mike. Have you forgotten how sensitive they are about rank at home?" Avis hesitated. "If what I believe about the mood back there is true, we can use the good will of high-level Navy personnel. And any other influential people in sight." Blades drew a deep breath. "You're too blinking sensible. Remind me to fire you after I've made my first ten million bucks." "What'll you do for your next ten million, then?" snipped his secretary-file clerk-confidante-adviser-et cetera. "Nothing. I'll just squander the first." "Goody! Can I help?" "Uh ... I'll be right along." Blades switched off. His ears felt hot, as often of late when he tangled with Avis, and he unlimbered only a few choice oaths. "Troubles?" asked Carlos Odonaju.