"I never would of believed it," the sergeant said, looking at the smile and daring a glance at the rest of Jane Crowley, which was every bit as delightful as the pretty way she showed her teeth. "An unlimited pass, sergeant. Make one out for me, please." The sergeant-major nodded and took a book of forms from a drawer in his desk. He wrote for a while, then said, "That's C-r-o-w-l-e-y, ma'am?" "Right." "Any time limit on the pass?" "None at all," Jane said, still amazed that her ruse, her show of elation had actually worked. The sergeant-major applied the finishing touches to the pass with an ink-stamp duplicate of the Colonel's signature and handed the stiff plastic rectangle to Jane. "There you are, ma'am," he said. "But watch your step, Miz Crowley. The last ship's blasting off in twenty hours, with or without the Mandmoorans. Twenty hours, ma'am. So please don't get lost." Jane thanked him, smiled again, and got out of there. Five minutes later, the Colonel buzzed for his sergeant-major. "Yes, sir?" the sergeant asked, poking his head in through the irising door. "Well, I see the lady reporter didn't give much trouble after I made it clear the answer was no. Now, about that Sbogan file. Sbogan, that is the name?" "Yeah, Sbogan. Fomalhautian name. What did you ... did you say, sir?" "The Sbogan file should--" "No. About the reporter. You told her no? Your answer was no, sir?" "Naturally. We couldn't let her put her pretty head in the lion's mouth." "Oh, Lord, sir," the sergeant-major said. "I gave her an unlimited pass." "Sergeant!" "She said you had ... sir...." "An unlimited pass--sergeant! Send out an alarm for that girl. We're all right as long as she doesn't leave the mainland. But if she goes to the Mandmooran Island, where those hold-out sun-worshippers are...." "She'll make tracks for there, all right," the sergeant-major predicted. "Stop her. Stop her before she gets that far! Because once she crosses to the island, there isn't a thing we can do about it. You can't tell a nova to wait, sergeant!" "I'll try to stop her, sir." "Make it a general alarm, sergeant. You've _got_ to stop her." Moments later, Jane Crowley's description was being radio'd to every martial checkpoint in the city of Northport. * * * * *