* * * * * When the cruiser reached Simonides and Hanlon had seen the other mine workers safely in the Corps prison at Base, and Philander installed in a room next to his at the hotel, he called Admiral Hawarden. "Congratulations on the mop-up, which I understand was one hundred point oh oh oh percent," the officer said. "Yes, the other end's under control. How about Bohr's notes?" "They finished last night. We've got a complete list of all the underlings who knew any of the main parts of the conspiracy, and the SS agents have jugged them all." "Good work." "You did a grand job, sir. Again, my congratulations." "Thanks, Admiral Hawarden. I've got to get busy now, on my report to the Council." "Call on me for any help I can give. I'd offer you my confidential secretary to dictate them to, if it wasn't so secret." "Thanks. She would be a big help, but we'd better not." "How'd you know it was a 'she'?" "Even a pigeon can admire a shapely shape," Hanlon quipped as he disconnected. The young SS man was just finishing his report the next day when Admiral Newton walked into his hotel room. "Gosh, Dad, am I _especially_ glad to see you this time!" his son enthused. "I need you to check this report." "Let's see what you've got." Newton settled down in a big chair to study the report, while Hanlon fidgetted about the room, anxiously. "A very clear, concise and complete report, Spence," Newton applauded when he finished reading. "Where do I send it, and to whom?" His father looked at him quizzically. "Have you forgotten about the special mail box for SS men?" The younger man looked astounded. "You mean, even a thing like this merely goes in there?" Newton nodded. "However, in this case, since I would have been the one to pick it up, I'll take it to Base and transmit it to the Council. Incidentally, future reports should be marked on the envelope 'Report to Federated Council'." A couple of hours later Admiral Hawarden called Hanlon at the hotel, where he had just finished making arrangements for Philander's operation and treatments. "Your father and I want you to come to Base at once, sir." When he arrived in Hawarden's private office, the admiral handed him a pair of silver bars. "These are yours now, Captain Hanlon." The young man looked up in surprise. "You were told promotions were swift in the SS--for those who produce," his father chuckled. "The Council was very gratified with your report, and ordered the promotion." Hanlon looked at the two insignia, and his fingers stroked them almost tenderly. "You miss the uniform, don't you, Spence?" sympathetically. Hanlon gulped and nodded silently, very close to tears. "Are you sorry you made the choice you did--to give all that up?"