"I certainly do. After all, it proved the worth of my invention. And," he added eagerly, "it gave me another set of insignia to have installed." "If the worth of your invention is more interesting to you than the interest of my father's office," said Laura sharply, "your latest rise in power--made by using father's finest ship as a stepping stone--is of little interest to me." "But Laura. I'm a sector commander now. And you may have my senior executive's stars." "I have a fair collection," said Laura coldly. "You may bring me your patrol marshal's nebula when you're raised to sector marshal. Good day!" She stamped off angrily, and Maynard searched his mind for the answer to the question, and gave it up as one of the unanswerable mysteries of life. If Malcolm Greggor could look upon the incident without rancor, why should she turn upon him? Any reasoning he did made no sense. And as he stood there, footsteps made him aware of another visitor. He turned to see Joan Forbes. "Hello," she said brightly. "I was on my way to the lunchroom and passed by to see the Big Fellow." She indicated the _Orionad_ now being illuminated by mighty floodlights in the dusk. "I found you instead." "Hi," he said to her. "What's new?" "Nothing in my life," she said with a broad smile. Her eye caught the boxed insignia in Guy's clenched hand. "I see that something is new in yours. May I salute you, Sector Commander?" Guy looked at her with a half-smile as she stepped back and cast him a womanly salute. "Congratulations," she said, offering her hand. Guy looked first at her face, and then at her outstretched hand. Instead of taking it in his for a handshake in friendship, which was the manner of its offering, Guy placed the opened box in the outstretched fingers. Joan blinked, and looked down at the box in surprise for a moment. Then she brightened. She stepped forward and removed the rayed stars from Guy's lapel and replaced them with the circularly tailed comets. She stepped back, saluted him silently, and then came forward and kissed him on the lips. Her caress was affectionate, but brief. "You're properly installed, commander," she told him. "But if I don't hurry, I'll be un-installed by my boss. I've got to run along. Keep rising, Guy!" And with that she was gone. Guy looked at the empty box, and then at the comets on his lapels. And from them, across to the _Orionad_. And a challenge arose to confront him. He would be sector marshal one day, and whether he took his patrol marshal's insignia to Laura Greggor depended only upon her. And he would also command the _Orionad_. He clenched his fist upon the empty box, crushing it. His question was not: Would he command the _Orionad_? It was: How long would it take? * * * * * It took five years. Five long, toilsome years.