Bill lifted a brow. "Intercontinental Lines? Never heard of it. Exclusively airline traffic on Earth?" "It's a new company formed under monopoly regulations. Of course, I realize you're a spaceman, but staying on Earth would have its compensations. You can name your own salary." Bill leaned forward and mixed another drink. This was something unexpected and pretty tempting too. No more fighting his fear of space. He downed the drink in a few gulps, then stood up. "Well, I--I'd like to think things over," he said with hesitation, walking slowly to the window. Margo followed, saying, "I don't mean to rush you, Bill--yet the situation needs your experienced hand." "I know, but my brother and I are all set to make a scouting trip to Beta Quadrant." Margo leaned against the window drapes, smiling with frank admiration. "I know you are. How in the world you can take off from Earth and hit a target far out in space is beyond me. Is it something like firing artillery?" The warm glow already suffusing Bill's senses took on added lustre when he looked into her questioning eyes. Expansively, he began drawing diagrams, and explaining the elements of space navigation. "Now here's the trajectory my brother and I are planning to use," he went on, drawing a complex curve with loading figures and fuel consumption and point of contact with the Beta Quadrant. When he paused once, Margo touched the gold sunburst emblem on his arm. "That's fascinating, Bill, but making a trip like yours is all a gamble. I'm not offering you a gamble. I'm offering you a sure thing." "Yes, I realize that." Bill got to his feet. "But just the same I want to think your proposition over, Margo." She leaned toward him putting her hands on his lapels. "Bill, don't risk your neck out there in space. I need you desperately in the company." Suddenly, Bill was electrically aware of cool, smooth arms sliding up and around his neck and her soft red mouth within fragrance distance. And he was exquisitely aware of the full soft length of her pressing against him. The scent of jasmine reached him with bewitching stealth. That was when he closed the gap to her mouth in a sudden rush. Bill came out of a whirling state of pure feeling to hear the visiphone buzzing insistently. "The phone," he mumbled. Margo opened her eyes dreamily, then comprehended. She walked over to the phone, picked up the receiver. After a moment she turned around looking at him questioningly. "It's for you, Bill." He took the phone and said, "Captain Staker speaking." The desk clerk said, "A gentleman to see you, sir. Shall I send him to Apt. 5B?" "No," Bill answered. "I'll be down to my room in a few moments and see him there." He turned to Margo. "I guess business comes before idyll, Margo. I've got to go." Her lustrous dark eyes searched his face intently. "How long must I wait for an answer, Bill?" "Can you wait until Thursday--three days?" Time enough to thresh things out with Tom.