He was barred from legal practice, and he was barred from any business transactions. The stock market could be manipulated, but only through a blind, which was neither profitable nor safe. His holdings in Terran Electric were all that stood between him and ruin. He was no better off than Murdoch, save that he was not wanted. But-- "I'm going to remain on Terra and run Terran Electric like a model company," he said. "That'll be our base." "Right. Except for a bit of research along specified lines, you will do nothing. Your job will be to act apologetic for your misdeeds. You will grovel on the floor before any authority, and beseech the legal profession to accept you once more. I will need your help, there. You are to establish yourself in the good graces of the Interplanetary Patent Office, and report to me any applications that may be of interest. The research that Terran Electric will conduct will be along innocuous lines. The real research will be in a secret laboratory. The one in the Melanortis Country. Selected men will work there, and the Terran Electric fleet of cargo-carriers will carry the material needed. My main failure was not to have provided a means of knowing what the worlds were doing. I'll have that now, and I shall not be defeated again." "We'll say that one together!" said Kingman. He flipped open a large book and set the autopilot from a set of figures. The _Black Widow_ turned gently and started to run for Terra at two G. * * * * * Walt Franks frowned at the memorandum in his hand. "Look, Don, are we ever going to get to work on that deal with Keg Johnson?" "Uh-huh," answered Don, without looking up. "He's serious. Transplanet is getting the edge, and he doesn't like it." "Frankly, I don't like dabbling in stuff like that either. But Keg's an old friend, and I suppose that's how a guy gets all glommed up on projects, big business deals, and so forth. We'll be going in directly. Why the rush?" "A bit of personal business on Mars which can best be done at the same time, thus saving an additional trip." "O.K.," said Don idly. "Might as well get it over with. Date with Christine Baler?" "Sure," grinned Franks. Actually, it was less than an hour before the _Relay Girl_ went out of the South End Landing Stage, turned, and headed for Mars. Packing to the Channings was a matter of persuading Arden not to take everything but the drapes in the apartment along with her, while for Walt Franks it was a matter of grabbing a trunkful of instruments and spare parts. Space travel is a matter of waiting for days in the confines of a small bubble of steel. Just waiting. For the scenery is unchanging all the way from Sol to Pluto--and is the same scenery that can be seen from the viewports of Venus Equilateral. Walt enjoyed his waiting time by tinkering; having nothing to do would have bored him, and so he took with him enough to keep him busy during the trip.