"Yes, but I'll let you have her; it is of the essence that you have the best one available. Miss Flurnoy?" "Yes, sir?" Besides reporting, she had been conversing busily with James and Belle. "Would you like to be assigned to Mr. Garlock for the duration of his stay on Margonia?" "Oh, _yes_, sir!" she replied, excitedly. "You are so assigned. Take orders from him or from any designate as though I myself were issuing them." "Thank you, sir ... but what limits? And do I transmit to and/or record for you, sir?" "No limit. These four Galaxians are hereby granted nation-wide top clearance. Transmit as usual whatever is permitted." "Full reporting is not only permitted, but urged," Garlock said. "There is nothing secret about our mission." * * * As the _Pleiades_ landed: "If you will give us your focus spot, Mr. Entlore, we can all 'port to your office and save calling staff cars." "And cause a revolution?" Entlore laughed. "Apparently you haven't been checking outside." "Afraid I haven't. I've been thinking." "Take a look. I got orders from the Cabinet to put guards wherever people absolutely must not go, and open everything else to the public. I _hope_ there are enough guards to keep a lane open for us, but I wouldn't bet on it." Garlock was very glad that the military men's stiff formality had disappeared. "You Galaxians took this whole planet by storm while you were still above the stratosphere." * * * There is no need to go into detail concerning the reception and celebration. On Earth, one inauguration of a president and one coronation of a monarch were each almost as well covered by broadcasters, if not as turbulently and enthusiastically prolonged. From the _Pleiades_ they went to the Administration Building, where an informal reception was held. Thence to the Capitol, where the reception was very formal indeed. Thence to the Grand Ballroom of the city's largest hotel, where a tremendous--and long-winded--banquet was served. At Garlock's request, all sixteen members of the "crackpot" group--the most active members of the Deep Space Club--had been invited to the banquet. And, even though Garlock was a very busy man, his talker tuned in to each one of the sixteen, tuned them all to the Galactic Admiral, and in odd moments a great deal of business was done. After being told most of the story--in tight-beamed thoughts that ComOff Flurnoy could not receive--the whole group was wildly enthusiastic. They would change the name of their club forthwith to The Galaxian Society Of Margonia. They laid plans for a world-wide organization which would have tremendous prestige and tremendous income. They already had a field--Garlock knew about their ship--they wanted the _Pleiades_ to move over to it as soon as possible--Yes, Garlock thought he could do it the following day--if not, as soon as he could.... * * *