Jak soon came in from the other part of the ship. "All our data books, pictures and specimens are packed and stashed by the inner lockdoor," he reported. Jon jumped from his pilot's seat and started toward the living quarters. "Let's get our street clothes on, and get going to the Colonial Board headquarters." "Yes," Mrs. Carver said eagerly. "After all we've gone through to make sure we beat that Bogin and his ship back home, let's not waste any time." "Well," Mr. Carver's eyes twinkled, "go put on your prettiest frock and all your war paint, so you can make a good impression on the Board members." She krinkled her nose at him, but went in to the bunkroom. Mr. Carver raised his chair to upright, and began struggling to get up. The two boys, watching closely, saw how weak he was, and ran to help him. With his arms across their shoulders, he finally managed to half-walk, half be carried, into the other room. The boys lowered him into a seat. "I'll get your clean clothes, and your razor and some hot water," Jak said. Jon went back into the control room, and turned on his radio-sender. "Service, please," he said when the operator came on, and in a moment, "_Star Rover_, cradle 43, section D. Please have a taxi-hopper here in thirty minutes, and a wheel chair with it. Thanks." When the four got outside on the landing platform and Tad Carver saw the wheel chair he was indignant. "I'm not going to ride in any lousy perambulator," he grumbled, but the boys were insistent. Finally his wife came over and put her hand on his arm. "You might as well give in, Mr. C. Besides, your leg is not strong enough to do without one--yet." Still grumbling, he let the boys help him into the wheel chair ... but they noticed his sigh of relief when he was settled and the weight was taken off his feet. His body trembled with weakness, in spite of his efforts to control himself. The chair, their books and cases were soon loaded into the copter, then Jon directed, "Colonial Board building, please." The little ship rose swiftly on her whirling vanes, then streaked through the clear air toward the center of the great city of Centropolis, while the four watched the familiar sights of "home" with eager, happy eyes. "Look at the trees and flowers," Jak called excitedly, pointing at the riot of color below. "They're getting green and in full bloom. It's late spring here, yet it was fall back on Three." "Different suns, different seasons on the various planets." There was amusement in his father's voice. "Sure, you ought to know that," Jon said condescendingly. "I do know it, you fathead. I was just...." "Now, Boys," their mother interposed--and the two grinned covertly at each other. Poor mother never seemed to realize there was no real animosity behind their bickerings.