A call bell tinkled on the bridge control console. The red light above the speaker grid began blinking. Stetson shot an angry glance at it. “Yeah, Hal?” “O.K., Stet. Orders just came through. We use Plan C. ComGO says to brief the field man, and jet out of here.” “Did you ask them about using another field man?” Orne looked up attentively. The speaker said: “Yes. They said we have to use Orne because of the records on the _Delphinus_.” “Well then, will they give us more time to brief him?” “Negative. It’s crash priority. ComGO expects to blast the planet anyway.” Stetson glared at the grid. “Those fat-headed, lard-bottomed, pig-brained ... POLITICIANS!” He took two deep breaths, subsided. “O.K. Tell them we’ll comply.” “One more thing, Stet.” “What now?” “I’ve got a confirmed contact.” Instantly, Stetson was poised on the balls of his feet, alert. “Where?” “About ten kilometers out. Section AAB-6.” “How many?” “A mob. You want I should count them?” “No. What’re they doing?” “Making a beeline for us. You better get a move on.” “O.K. Keep us posted.” “Right.” * * * * * Stetson looked across at his junior field man. “Orne, if you decide you want out of this assignment, you just say the word. I’ll back you to the hilt.” “Why should I want out of my first field assignment?” “Listen, and find out.” Stetson crossed to a tilt-locker behind the big translite map, hauled out a white coverall uniform with gold insignia, tossed it to Orne. “Get into these while I brief you on the map.” “But this is an R&R uni—” began Orne. “Get that uniform on your ugly frame!” “Yes, sir, Admiral Stetson, sir. Right away, sir. But I thought I was through with old Rediscovery & Reeducation when you drafted me off of Hamal into the I-A ... sir.” He began changing from the I-A blue to the R&R white. Almost as an afterthought, he said: “... Sir.” A wolfish grin cracked Stetson’s big features. “I’m soooooo happy you have the proper attitude of subservience toward authority.” Orne zipped up the coverall uniform. “Oh, yes, sir ... sir.” “O.K., Orne, pay attention.” Stetson gestured at the map with its green superimposed grid squares. “Here we are. Here’s that city we flew over on our way down. You’ll head for it as soon as we drop you. The place is big enough that if you hold a course roughly northeast you can’t miss it. We’re—” Again the call bell rang. “What is it this time, Hal?” barked Stetson. “They’ve changed to Plan H, Stet. New orders cut.” “Five days?” “That’s all they can give us. ComGO says he can’t keep the information out of High Commissioner Bullone’s hands any longer than that.” “It’s five days for sure then.” “Is this the usual R&R foul-up?” asked Orne. Stetson nodded. “Thanks to Bullone and company! We’re just one jump ahead of catastrophe, but they still pump the bushwah into the Rah & Rah boys back at dear old Uni-Galacta!”