Don Channing said nothing. He recalled, all too vividly, the rolling of the tummy that ensued after that session with the only fighter that hadn't yet been beaten: Old John Barleycorn. "How are you coming on with Burbank?" asked Arden. "I haven't heard a rave for--well, ever since Monday morning's conference. Three days without a nasty dig at Our Boss. That's a record." "Give the devil his due. He's been more than busy placating irate citizens. That last debacle with the beam control gave him a real Moscow winter. His reforms came to a stop whilst he retrenched. But he's been doing an excellent job of squirming out from under. Of course, it has been helped by the fact that even though the service was rotten for a few hours, the customers couldn't rush out to some other agency to get communications with the other planets." "Sort of: 'Take us, as lousy as we are?'" "That's it." * * * * * Channing opened the door to his apartment and Arden went in. Channing followed, and then stopped cold. "Great Jeepers!" he said in an awed tone. "If I didn't know--" "Why, Don! What's so startling?" "Have you noticed?" he asked. "It smells like the inside of a chicken coop in here!" Arden sniffed. "It does sort of remind me of something that died and couldn't get out of its skin." Arden smiled. "I'll hold my breath. Any sacrifice for a drink." "That isn't the point. This is purified air. It should be as sweet as a baby's breath." "Some baby," whistled Arden. "What's she been drinking?" "It wasn't cow juice. Nor yet lake filler. What I've been trying to put over is that the air doesn't seem to have been changed in here for nine weeks." Channing went to the ventilator and lit a match. The flame bent over, flickered, and went out. "Air intake is O.K.," he said. "Maybe it is I. Bring on that bottle, Channing; don't keep the lady waiting." He yawned again, deeply and jaw-stretchingly. Arden yawned too, and the thought of both of them stretching their jaws to the breaking-off point made both of them laugh foolishly. "Arden, I'm going to break one bottle of beer with you, after which I'm going to take you home, kiss you goodnight, and toss you into your own apartment. Then I'm coming back here and I'm going to hit the hay!" Arden took a long, deep breath. "I'll buy that," she said. "And tonight, it wouldn't take much persuasion to induce me to snooze right here in this chair!" "Oh fine," cheered Don. "That would fix me up swell with the neighbors. I'm not going to get shotgunned into anything like that!" "Don't be silly," said Arden. "From the look in your eye," said Channing, "I'd say that you were just about to do that very thing. I was merely trying to dissolve any ideas that you might have." "Don't bother," she said pettishly. "I haven't any ideas. I'm as free as you are, and I intend to stay that way!" Channing stood up. "The next thing we know, we'll be fighting," he observed. "Stand up, Arden. Shake."