He was suddenly aware of a slight movement in the banks--a shivering of stem, quiver of leaf. The mere act of his passing had set some sensitive plant to register his presence. A lacy, fern-like thing was contracting its fronds into balls. He should not stay--disturbing the peace of the hydro. But it made little difference now--within a matter of hours all this luxuriance would be thrust out to die and they would have to depend upon canned oxgy and algae tanks. Too bad--the hydro represented much time and labor on Mura's part and Tau had medical plants growing there he had been observing for a long time. As Dane closed the door behind him, seeing the line of balled fern which had marked his passage, he heard a faint rustling, a sound as if a wind had swept across the green room within. The imagination which was a Trader's asset (when it was kept within bounds) suggested that the plants inside guessed--With a frown for his own sentimentality, Dane strode down the corridor and climbed to check with Rip in control. The Astrogator-apprentice had his own problems. To bring the Queen down on the circumscribed field of an E-Stat--without a guide beam to ride in--since if they contacted the Stat they must reveal their _own_ com was working and they would have to answer questions--was the sort of test even a seasoned pilot would tense over. Yet Rip was sitting now in the Captain's place, his broad hands spread out on the edge of the control board waiting. And below in the engine room Ali was in Stotz's place ready to fire and cut rockets at order. Of course they were both several years ahead of him in Service, Dane knew. But he wondered at their quick assumption of responsibility and whether he himself could ever reach that point of self-confidence--his memory turning to the bad mistake he had made on Sargol. There was the sharp note of a warning gong, the flash of red light on the control board. They were off automatic, from here on in it was all Kip's work. Dane strapped down at the silent com-unit and was startled a moment later when it spat words at him, translated from space code. "Identify--identify--I-S E-Stat calling spacer--identify--" So compelling was that demand that Dane's fingers went to the answer key before he remembered and snatched them back, to fold his hands in his lap. "Identify--" the expressionless voice of the translator droned over their heads. Rip's hands were on the control board, playing the buttons there with the precision of a musician creating some symphonic masterpiece. And the Queen was alive, now quivering through her stout plates, coming into a landing. Dane watched the visa plate. The E-Stat asteroid was of a reasonable size, but in their eyes it was a bleak, torn mote of stuff swimming through vast emptiness. "Identify--" the drone heightened in pitch.