"You look tired, Wag," the engineer stated; then his alert eyes caught the reason why. The flight chart explained that: a series of entries on the incoming flights column. In this weather that meant work for the operator at the station. Traffic Control normally brought the ships in by voice contact after said ships had consecutively swung off the trajectory beams and radio range beams; but with zero-zero weather, the Authority men had to concentrate upon the instrument landing beams as well. Wherefore Ward didn't reprimand Wagner. After all, if a keyer breaks down, it isn't necessarily because a human being has failed. "I'm half dead," Wagner acknowledged with a forced grin. "Twenty ships came in in the last hour. Twenty of 'em off twenty different trajectory beams. Twenty of 'em on the landing beams. I just got the bulk of 'em in properly when a keyer goes out with Earth's two cruisers swinging into perihelion near the sun!" "What're all those ships here for?" Ward asked as he stripped off dripping coveralls and proceeded to the multitrajectory beam transmitter. "Usual thing. Owing to the present tense situation which has developed between Venus and dear old Red, the representatives of Earth and Venus have decided to have a conclave to effect measures against our dear Martian cousins. Everybody's afraid things will go smash when Mars and Venus are in opposition two Earth years hence." "Oh," grunted Silvy Ward. Political wrangling wasn't his forte. Removing the transparent cover from the silent keyer, Ward made a cursory examination. The keying device proper seemed to be okay. He promptly got out the circuit tester and started checking the continuity of the circuits. Wherewith things started to happen with a vengeance. Traffic Control called, stating that a freighter was dropping in over the field and asking for the north-south landing beams. Wagner hurried over to cut in the juice on the remote controls. Immediately the open receiver which was tuned to the Patrol frequency snarled out: "Patrol V-11 calling Pali-Vanyi base." The base station over in Traffic Control cut in on the same wavelength. "Okay, V-11. Report." "The ship on A-orbit from direction Mars is a destroyer. Not near enough to read markings. Refuses to answer our signals or to cut velocity. Advise." "Contact ship," was the smug advice. "Doing our best!" Patrol V-11 snapped back. Wagner had his head half turned from the landing indicators to hear the patrol communications. From the corner of his full-lipped mouth he shot: "What in the devil's going on up there, Silvy?" "Dunno," Ward answered. An inexplicable chill was running along his spine. A conclave here in the twin city of Pali-Vanyi to effect measures against Mars--A destroyer coming in, refusing to answer the Patrol queries-- The inner door opened behind him. Ward spun around. Anger darkened his face as he glared at the tall, dark skinned man who had unsteadily come to rest against the door jamb.