"Now you listen to me, friend! I'm from the Interstellar Medical Service! You get in touch with planetary health services immediately! Remind them of the Interstellar Medical Inspection Agreement, signed on Tralee two hundred and forty standard years ago. Remind them that if they do not cooperate in medical inspection that I can put your planet under quarantine and your space commerce will be cut off like that! No ship will be cleared for Weald from any other planet in the galaxy until there has been a health inspection! Things have pretty well gone to pot so far as the Med Service in this sector is concerned, but we're trying to straighten it out. You have twenty minutes to clear this and then, I'm coming in. If I'm not landed, a quarantine goes on! Tell your health authorities that!" Silence. Calhoun clicked off and poured himself another cup of coffee. Murgatroyd held out his cup for a refill. Calhoun gave it to him. "I hate to put on an official hat, Murgatroyd," he said annoyedly, "but there are some people who won't have any other way." Murgatroyd said "_Chee!_" and sipped at his cup. * * * * * Calhoun checked the course of the Med Ship. It bored on through space. There were tiny noises from the communicator. There were whisperings and rustlings and the occasional strange and sometimes beautiful musical notes whose origin is yet obscure, but which, since they are carried by electromagnetic radiation of wildly varying wave-lengths, are not likely to be the fabled music of the spheres. He waited. * * * * * In fifteen minutes a different voice came from the speaker. "_Med Ship Aesclipus! Med Ship Aesclipus!_" Calhoun answered and the voice said anxiously; "_'Sorry about the challenge, but we have the blueskin problem always with us. We have to be extremely careful! Will you come in, please?_" "I'm on my way," said Calhoun. "_The planetary health authorities,_" said the voice, more anxiously still, "_are very anxious to be cooperative. We need Med Service help! We lose a lot of sleep over the blueskins! Could you tell us the name of the last Med Ship to land here, and its inspector, and when that inspection was made? We want to look up the record of the event to be able to assist you in every possible way._" "He's lying," Calhoun told Murgatroyd, "but he's more scared than hostile." He picked up the order-folio on Weald Three. He gave the information about the last Med Ship visit. He clicked off. "What?" he asked, "is a blueskin?"