And like I said--folks call me hard-boiled. But I reckon I'm only gently poached compared to the men who operate under the title of Big Business, because when we entered the apartment the telephone was jangling like an opium addict's nerves, and when I picked it up I was talking to the Assignment Clerk of the I.P.C., the Corporation from which we draw our weekly credit checks. "Donovan?" he yelped. "Is that you, Donovan?" "Mmm," I said. "Is Captain Hanson there?" I glanced at the skipper, whose arms were about his quietly sobbing daughter. He was a gruff old codger, Hanson; a more irascible space-tyrant never lifted gravs. But he had a heart buried somewhere beneath that crust, a heart that was now as hurt and grieved as my own. "Why?" I asked. "Never mind why!" snapped the A.C. "Put him on!" I said grimly, "Okay, Buster! I'll play toddle-top with you. I'll _put_ him on now and _take_ you on the next time I see you. Skipper--" And I handed him the phone. Whatever the A.C. told the Old Man, it threw a jolt into him. I saw Hanson stiffen like a rheumatic neck, and he roared, "_Wha-a-at!_ Impossible! Why, you damned young jackanapes, don't you know the staff and crew of the _Saturn_ are in mourning? We won't--" * * * * * Then there was clacking from the ear-piece, metallic and ominous, and the Old Man's face turned from crimson to an outraged mauve. But anxious lines corrugated his brow and he forced a modulated acquiescence to his voice. "I see," he said thoughtfully. "So that's the way it is, eh? Well--" Grudgingly "--all right, then. But I don't like it, sir. And you may tell your superiors--" The A.C. must have hung up on him. He turned to us slowly. "Sparks--" he said. Diane Hanson stared at her father. "Daddy, what is it? Is it--some news about Lancelot?" "No, honey," said the Old Man gravely. "Don't keep that hope burning, dear. You'll only torture yourself. This is something entirely different. Something--" His stifled anger burst out afresh "--something dastardly! They should be boiled in oil, the whole rotten kit and kiboodle of them! But I'm helpless. Orders are orders. Sparks, get in contact with the staff and crew immediately. Tell them to pack their duffle and be aboard the _Saturn_ by midnight." I said, "What! But, Skipper, we were granted leave to mourn Biggs--" "I know it! But the Corporation has countermanded our leaves. We're to lift gravs at twelve sharp for Europa. Polarium has just been discovered there, and the whole solar system has gone crazy. Prospectors from every corner of the universe are blasting for Europa as fast as their jets will push them. And since the _Saturn_ is the fastest lugger in the I.P.S. fleet, we've got to get there and stake claims for the Corporation. "I--I'm sorry it has to be this way, Diane. I don't want to leave you. But the clerk said if I refused to take command, they'd appoint someone else--"