"If you don't put me in touch with Captain Fromer in five minutes, I'll put through a call to Sector Headquarters." Hansen signaled off contact. If he knew nothing else about the situation, he knew that he had the upper hand. * * * * * Five minutes later Captain Fromer called him back. "I am calling in accordance with emergency procedures," Fromer said between clinched teeth. "The situation is this: We are reporting an emergency--" "What class emergency?" Hansen interrupted. "Class?" asked Fromer, obviously caught off guard. "Yes, Captain. There are three classes of emergencies. Major class, which would include death and injury. Mechanical class, including malfunction of Hegler units and such. And General class--" "Yes, yes, of course, General class by all means," Fromer said hurriedly. "You see, it's hardly even an emergency. We--" "Just what is the nature of the trouble, Captain?" "Why, uh, well it seems that we were doing a preliminary landing procedure check, and ..." "Yes, go on." "Why, er, it seems that we can't get the door open." It was Hansen's turn to be taken aback. "You're pulling my leg, sir." "I most certainly am not," Captain Fromer said emphatically. "You really mean that you can't open the door?" "I'm afraid so. Something's wrong with the mechanism. Our technical staff has never encountered a problem like this, and they advise me that any attempt at repair might possibly result in the opposite situation." "You mean not being able to get the door closed?" "Precisely. In other words, we can't land." "I see. Then I'm afraid there's nothing I can do except advise Sector Headquarters to send an emergency repair crew." Captain Fromer sighed. "I'm afraid so, too. How long will it take for a message to get there with your transmitting equipment?" "Two days, Captain. At a guess, there'll be a ship alongside within the week. You'll be maintaining your present position, I assume?" "Oh, we'll be here, all right," Fromer said bitterly. Then he cut contact. * * * * * As the single occupant of a large asteroid with nothing but time and boredom on his hands, Hansen was enjoying the whole situation immensely. He allowed himself the luxury of several dozen fantasies in which his name was mentioned prominently in galaxy-wide reports of the episode. He imagined that Captain Fromer was also creating vivid accounts--of quite another sort--that would soon be amusing several hundred billion news-hungry citizens of the Federation. When the repair ship arrived, it came, to Hansen's astonishment, to the asteroid, and not alongside Fromer's ship. He soon found out that there was someone else who shared the Captain's embarrassment. "I'm Bullard," said a tall, thin, mournful man. "Mind if I sit?" "Help yourself," Hansen waved a hand toward the meager accommodations. He had no idea why a Senior Engineer was being so deferential, but he enjoyed the feeling of power.