"He couldn't do it with the _Pleiades_, so he won't be able to with this. Besides, if we change it in any particular he _might_. You see, I don't know very much more about Unit Eight than you do." "_That_ could be, too." Then, as though just emerging from his concentration on the drawings, James thought at Delcamp and Fao, but on the open, general band. "A good many errors and a lot of blanks, but in general you're on the right track. I can finish up this drawing in a couple of hours, and we can build the unit in a couple of days. With that in place, the rest of the ship will go fast. "_If_ Miss Talaho wants me to," he concluded, pointedly. "Oh, I do, Jim--really I do!" At long last, stiff-backed Fao softened and bent. She seized both his hands. "If you can, it'd be too wonderful for words!" "Okay. One question. Why are you building your ship so small?" "Why, it's plenty big enough for two," Delcamp said. "For four, in a pinch. Why did you make yours so big? Your Main is big enough almost for a convention hall." "That's what we figured it might have to be, at times," Garlock said. "But that's a very minor point. With yours so nearly ready to flit, no change in size is indicated now. But Belle and I have got to have another conference with the legal eagle. So if you and Brownie, Jim, will 'port whatever you need out of the _Pleiades_, we'll be on our way. "So long--see you in a few days," he added, and the _Pleiades_ vanished; to appear instantaneously high above the stratosphere over what was to become the Galaxian Field of Earth. * * * "Got a minute, Gene?" he sent a thought. "For you two Primes, as many as you like. We haven't started building or fencing yet, as you suggested, but we have bought all the real estate. So land the ship anywhere out there and I'll send a jeep out after you." "Thanks, but no jeep. Nobody but you knows that we've really got control of the _Pleiades_, and I want everybody else to keep on thinking it's strictly for the birds. We'll 'port in to your office whenever you say." "I say now." In no time at all the two Primes were seated in the private office of Eugene Evans, Head of the Legal Department of the newly re-incorporated Galaxian Society of Sol, Inc. Evans was a tall man, slightly thin, slightly stooped, whose thick tri-focals did nothing whatever to hide the keenness of his steel-gray eyes. "The first thing, Gene," Garlock said, "is this employment contract thing. Have you figured out a way to break it?" "It can't be broken." The lawyer shook his head. "Huh? I thought you top-bracket legal eagles could break anything, if you really tried."