The three spider ships waited in the late evening darkness. Only a few spectators loitered. The television cameras were quiet. Army sentries patroled the area to keep the starmen inside and the curious out. Norma's heels clicked sharply on the runway as she approached. At the ropes she stopped and showed the guard the entry permit her brother had obtained for her. "Come under," the guard said, lifting the rope. "The one called Herb?" "He's in that one over there." She moved in the indicated direction. A moment before, the night had been warm. Now an uncomfortably chill breeze whispered around her as she moved into the starship's shadow. The thought of the distance it had come, the countless millions of miles of space its hull had shed, was enough to dwarf her into less than insignificance. She wanted to run back to the guard, and to the protection of the familiar. The ladder was down, and when she reached it, the door above opened and a starman looked out. "I'd like to come up." The starman went away. In a moment, he was back with one of the three who could speak English. "I'd like to come up," Norma repeated. "We've already given the official tour for today." "I have an authorization from our government. I'd like to talk to Herb. You tell him I'm from Senator Council. It's about the report." "Just a moment." He disappeared inside. Norma teetered nervously back and forth. Wonderingly she put out her hand to touch the hard, icy metal of the ladder. "Come up." She began to climb toward the opening. Looking behind her, she saw Washington, real and solid and reassuring. The starman at the top helped her inside. Herb was coming down the narrow corridor. She smiled at him. "Hello." "Hello...." "I want to talk to you a moment." He gestured her inside. In the first room off the main corridor, Herb stopped. Several starmen hovered nearby to listen. "Can I talk to you for just a couple of seconds alone?" "Why--why, yes, I guess." He looked around for permission. The Oligarch, towering imperiously on the fringe of the group, said, "Why don't you interview her in my office, Herb?" "Come along," Herb said. In contrast to the Spartan plainness of the rest of the ship, the Oligarch's office was richly furnished. Its private corridor led past the messhall and opened upon the main corridor that led forward to the second level: it was strategically located; from its doorway, one could interdict entrance and escape. It was the first time Herb had been in the room. Automatically his eyes searched the walls. "Senator Council asked me to talk to you," Norma said. "He wants you to understand about the report. You've heard? It's going to the full Senate tomorrow. We'd like you to...." "I'm only a technician, Miss." "My name is Norma."