"As to the snuff matter," Esrov said, "I think we should emphasize to our mutual contact that he should be more discriminating in issuing permits." "That's all right for now," Lesquallan snapped. "But he's done with, too. I'll see to it that he's replaced." "As to the canned goods situation," Rovance said, "it seems to me that we should have a subsidiary company to handle our excess cargoes--at reduced rates, of course. It shouldn't cost too much to pick up one of the less financially secure companies--such as Acme." Esrov nodded. "An excellent idea." "I agree," Lesquallan said and sat down. "But first we must dispose of today's damned annoyances. I suggest that we outline a plan for immediate action." "To begin with," Esrov reminded him, "we must deal with the restraining order." * * * * * When Swenson came back from lunch, he was not as sober and thus in a better mood. Mister Cerobie's insert to the Senator's speech was on his desk. Swenson read the first few lines: As a further indication of the methods, devices, malfeasances, and corrupt practices employed, used, and sustained by those with whom you have called upon me to negotiate in the highest tribunal in Washington, let me cite the following information which I have just received. Although this information is top-drawer, restricted and highly secret, I was able to obtain it through certain channels which, as a man of honor, I must leave undisclosed. The right of all creatures to be free is a fundamental, an inviolable, right and yet on Venus.... Swenson said to himself: "Mister Cerobie is in the wrong business," and started coding the insert. He had almost finished when the ship-calling light flashed red. "Number 5 to Dispatcher. Captain Verbold speaking." "Dispatcher to Number 5. This is Swenson. Go ahead." "I'm afraid you can't help me. May I speak to Mister Cerobie?" "He's out to lunch." "This matter is serious. I am faced with what amounts to mutiny." "Sorry, but I got troubles, too. Maybe I can find Mister Cerobie, maybe I can't. Why don't you tell me your grief?" Captain Verbold hesitated. "It's something I've been expecting. The crew has stated that they will leave the ship at Mars." Captain Verbold's next sentence was pronounced word by word in code. "I even have private information that there is a plot to take over the ship and blast directly to Earth, where the crew feel their case can be more justly presented." "What are they squawking about?" "Everything. Wages have not been paid for six months. Poor radiation shielding. Food not up to standard. You know the story." "It's not the first time I've heard it." "What am I to do?" * * * * *