It was worse up in the glittering cocktail room atop the hotel. The place had glassite walls and ceiling, and was designed to give an impression of the navigating bridge of a space-ship. The orchestra played behind a phony control-board of instruments and rocket-controls. Meaningless space-charts hung on the walls for decoration. It was just the sort of pretentious sham, Kenniston thought contemptuously, to appeal to tourists. "Some crowd!" muttered Holk Or, looking over the tables of richly dressed and jewelled people. His small eyes gleamed. "What a place to loot!" "Shut up!" Kenniston muttered hastily. He asked a waiter for the Loring party, and was conducted to a table in a corner. There were a half dozen people at the table, most of them young Earthmen and girls. They were drinking pink Martian desert-wine, except for one sulky-looking youngster who had stuck to Earth whisky. One of the girls turned and looked at Kenniston with cool, insolently uninterested gaze when the waiter whispered to her politely. "I'm Gloria Loring," she drawled. "What did you want to see me about?" She was dark and slim, and surprisingly young. There were almost childish lines to the bare shoulders revealed by her low golden gown. Her thoroughbred grace and beauty were spoiled for Kenniston by the bored look in her clear dark eyes and the faintly disdainful droop of her mouth. The chubby, rosy youth beside her goggled in simulated amazement and terror at the battered green Jovian behind Kenniston. He set down his glass with a theatrical gesture of horror. "This Martian liquor has got me!" he exclaimed. "I can see a little green man!" Holk Or started wrathfully forward. "Why, that young pup--" Kenniston hastily restrained him with a gesture. He turned back to the table. Some of the girls were giggling. "Be quiet, Robbie," Gloria Loring was telling the chubby young comedian. She turned her cool gaze back to Kenniston. "Well?" "Miss Loring, I heard down at the spaceport that you are the charterer of that small cruiser, the _Sunsprite_," Kenniston explained. "I need a craft like that very badly. If you would part with her, I'd be glad to pay almost any price for your charter." * * * * * The girl looked at him in astonishment. "Why in the world should I let you have our cruiser?" Kenniston said earnestly, "Your party could travel just as well and a lot more comfortably by liner. And getting a cruiser like that is a life-or-death business for me right now." "I'm not interested in your business, Mr. Kenniston," drawled Gloria Loring. "And I certainly don't propose to alter our plans just to help a stranger out of his difficulties." Kenniston flushed from the cool rebuke. He stood there, suddenly feeling a savage dislike for the whole pampered group of them.