He was a little sorry when he learned that Chris was on the first shuttle, the one that left ten minutes before Mac got him to the St. Thom Port and through the snarl of red tape that wound him up on Shuttle Two. But he assumed there would be communication between the two boats, once on board the _Messenger_. Certainly, the Dome Director would be free to go between shuttles, and certainly, he would be apprised of the change in the passenger list at the first opportunity. Johnny looked forward to seeing Chris when the time came. The shoe had changed feet, and it fit one hell of a sight better. He never did get to see Shuttle One crackling spectacularly through the outer edge of the Big Belt, as Two’s balloon entered Little Belt; he was much too sophisticated a Space traveler to crowd to the viewports when the others did. _Dollars Dome--Monday, October 17, 2_ P.M. (_C.S.T._) “That ought to fix you up now, Miss Trovi.” He fastened the buckle that held the miniature set strapped to her suit, and said, “Now if you want to just show me how you’d work it, make sure you got it right...?” Lisa unstrapped the kit, took out the tape, put it back in, switched the set to _record_, and turned it off again. “I’d better try it with the helmet, don’t you think?” she said doubtfully. “Sure. Good idea.” The big mechanic beamed down at her as if he had personally built the whole combination, and not just the small machine. But when he reached to help her adjust the wire trailing from the mike in the headpiece, she shook her head and waved him off: “I’ve got to be able to do it myself.” It worked fine. She put three extra rolls of tape in her pocket, thanked him, and left. The big man watched her go, shaking his head. “Guts!” he said. “Damn but that babe has guts!” He went back into the workshop and told his helper, “That bastard Wendt don’t come through, I bet there ain’t a single man here wouldn’t marry her, the day before the kid’s born, or the day after. And mop up the sonofabitch before dinner besides.” “One mistake, chum.” The helper was married. “You don’t know how easy it is to get a divorce. Don’t just say _single_ men.” _Red Dome--Tuesday, October 18, 9:25_ A.M. (_C.S.T._) The Guards Lieutenant saluted with military precision, which was worse than wasted on Dr. Chen. The Director was not even annoyed; the irritation of acknowledging the salute never materialized, because the necessity to do so failed to impress him. Dr. Chen could be exceedingly single-minded on some occasions. He had a superior capacity for crisis action. He also had a crisis. And he noted, with some detached part of his mind, that he was enjoying it enormously. It was a long time since there had been any real emergency or crisis in the Dome. This one was not in it either. “Very well,” he said crisply. “You will please explain to me how she contrived to leave?” “She is a good pilot, Comrade Your Excellency. She holds all necessary permits and licenses.”