"I'll do my job," Hanlon said honestly after that moment--but it was his job for the Secret Service he meant. "Good-bye, and thanks. Thank you, too, Panek, for your help." "Glad to've done it, Pal, glad to." "See you in four months, then," and the two left. Hanlon stored his luggage in the racks made for it, then started to go outside and see what was going on. But the door was locked. "They sure don't want me to know where we're going," he grinned ruefully as he sat down on the edge of his bunk. "That makes me know it's important, and I'll get it some day--they can't keep it from me forever." Sirens screamed "take-off," and he strapped himself into his bunk. When he felt the pressure subside and knew they were in space he unstrapped and relaxed. But there was nothing he could do. Later there was the sound of a key in the lock. When the door opened a heavy-set man carrying a blaster stepped inside. "Stand back, Bud, and keep your hands in sight." Hanlon raised his hands while the messcook brought in a tray and set it on his bunk. As they were going out Hanlon spoke. "You got any books on board? I don't mind being locked in and won't make any trouble, but please give me something to do." They made no answer, but when they returned for the empty dishes they left a couple of dog-eared magazines. Late the following afternoon the siren warned of landing, and Hanlon strapped himself down again. After he had felt the landing, one of the ship's officers came and unlocked the door. He was very apologetic. "Sorry, sir, about this, but we had our orders." "It's okay with me," Hanlon said cheerfully. "Don't make a bit of difference with me where I am, long's I get well paid." "I see you've put on your light clothing. That's good--this is a hot planet. These your bags?" Hanlon nodded, and each carrying one, the officer led the way to the airlock and they climbed down onto this new world. The air was thick and muggy--at least 110 deg. Fahrenheit, Hanlon guessed. There was a great bustle of activity on the landing field. Automatic machinery was unloading cargo, and loading it into trucks. There were several men, with their luggage, standing about. One was a huge, brutish-looking man, another a slender young chap about Hanlon's own age, apparently well-educated, from his manner, but with a certain shiftiness in his eyes; the others common-place laborers. "Any of you been here before?" the officer asked. Two of the others nodded, and started away from the field. Hanlon saw that just beyond the edge of it there were heavy forests--almost a jungle, but strange and alien.