"Then my freighter is safe? I'll get it back?" Stella asked. "Safe and sound," a new voice said. "I'm Fred Sanders." "And I'm Al McCarthy," another voice broke in. "Gee. A girl. What d'ya say we pick her up and let the guy drift on into space, Fred?" "Don't you dare!" Stella said, laughing with relief. She cut her rockets and drifted, watching the strange ship pull alongside and a magnetic grapple shoot out and thump against her ship. She slipped into her space-suit and went to the airlock. Larry, now less than a hundred miles away, watched the two ships come together. A few minutes later they separated again. Then the ship was close, matching speed. Larry saw the entrance hatch open. A space-suited figure tossed out a light line toward him. He seized it and was soon landing in the airlock. The grinning face inside the other helmet was, Larry thought, like news from home. * * * * * Inside, his eyes went first to Stella. Her wide-set blue eyes and expressive mouth and soft brown hair. He wanted to frown sternly and tell her off. He wanted to be calm and cool. But there wasn't calmness and coolness in her eyes, nor on her lips. There was something that said, _You're here_. Then she was in his arms, and he couldn't remember afterwards quite how it happened. Her lips were wonderful--but there were fellows standing around, grins on their lean faces. "It's always that way," one of them said sadly. "When you find a dame worth cultivating, she's already cultivated." "Break it up. Break it up," another said. "Get into seats. We've got to get back to work. We put Joe on your ship to bring it back, Larry." "Fine," Larry said. Stella squeezed his hand. Then they were sitting in form-fitting foam rubber, sinking deeper and deeper into it. Larry watched the forward viewscreen as they approached the planetoid. He saw an opening form in the seemingly barren rock surface. There were thumps against the hull. The viewscreens blanked out. "We're here," the one who had piloted the ship said. It was a signal for them all to move toward the exit. Then they were out of the ship, on a travelwalk, then in a well furnished large room. Carpeting, soft chairs you could get lost in. A bar. One of the quiet young men was mixing drinks. The others stood around, looking at Larry and Stella, with quiet friendly smiles. "A little pick-me-up," the bartender said, thrusting tall cool glasses in their hands. "Will we get to see any of this top secret research?" Stella asked the nearest quietly smiling young man. "I doubt it," he said. "Of course, the war's over now. We don't know what orders we'll get concerning you two." "What became of the robot?" Larry asked. "I hope you destroyed him the minute you could." "No. It should be here any minute now, Larry," the quietly smiling young man said. He was holding his drink without having touched it.