"Oh, we all know about it. But you don't have to tell me anything Mr. Tarleton told you not to. I merely wanted to get some idea of when I should cut off re- search and turn in my reports. They always tell me, offi- cially, about twenty-four hours ahead of deadline. Then I don't get any sleep for a while until the reports are com- pleted."

"Always?"

"I do research for a lot of things, Mr. Barton. This does happen to be the first interstellar expedition I've preppcd for; yes." It was a wry smile, the one she gave him then.

"I don't really know. Doctor," he said. "I was up at Seattle for a week, got back yesterday afternoon. No;

day before, it was. Anyway, I haven't seen Tarleton since

105.

he left Seattle, and the last I beard there was no firm date set. Or if there was, he didn't tell me."

"You dont need to sound so defensive, Mr. Barton;

I believe you. More coffee?"

"No, thanks; I'd better be going. Thanks, though." He got up, they said goodbyes and he left. He wished that either he didnt feel so much like liking Arleta Fox or that he had less cause to be wary of her. His feeling for her was not sexual. Oh, he considered her attractive enough;

Barton had no prejudice against small sturdy women.

But what grabbed him about her was the compact tidy bulldog mind that the fierce little jaw so strongly implied.

Too bad it made her such a danger to him.

Barton didn't feel like heating another frozen lunch, to eat alone. He got a jeep from the motor pool and drove out to the ship area. He caught Tarietoo and Kreugel on their way to the new cafeteria. It had been established in a big hurry when Tarleton got tired of bringing his own lunch in a paper bag.

"Wait up for another hungry man, will you?" Barton called, and they did.

Inside, they went through the line and soon were sit- ting with laden trays. Barton didn't talk much. He was thinking of how to ask for what he wanted. Tarleton was telling Kreugel that the first ship of the Earth-built fleet would be here for testing tomorrow or the next day.

Kreugel would be installing the central-axis laser weap- onry.

Then Tarleton noticed Barton's silence. "What are you chewing on, over there?"

"Beef Stroganoff, it says on the menu. And a couple of questions.'*

"I thought the Strogaooff was pretty good, myself.

Shoot the questions."

"OK," said Barton. "First, do you have any kind of proposed takeoff date yet?"

"For the fleet? Sure."

"Do I qualify to know it?"

"You're specifically authorized, I'm happy to say. Just four weeks from now, Saturday the 12th, with a possible week's slippage. OK?"

"That's pretty fast, isn't it?"

"Things get done fast on crash-priority," Tarleton said.

"I haven't been just standing around here cracking whips,"

Barton. As soon as any item, any part of the ships is

106.

cleared for production, I start it through the line. For in- stance, a lot of the drive components were firm several weeks ago. I goofed on a couple and had to have them done over again when new improvements were sug- gested, but the waste was minor for a job of. this magni- tude. Before I left Seattle I put the go-ahead on the last remaining components. Production and testing is seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day: overtime and bo- nuses for the working troops all the way down the line.

My guess is, two-to-one we don't need that extra week.

OK?".

"Damn good, Tarleton. You really know how to run a railroad." He hesitated. "Now I want to ask a favor."

"Ask ahead," said Tarleton. "You have a couple com- ing, assuming they're reasonable."

"OK. I expect you want Limila to check over whatever your amateur translators have been getting from Hishtoo lately. And maybe you'd like me to sit in at first while?

your boys check out our first production-line ship. Right?"

"Yes," Tarleton agreed, "I did have those things in mind. So what's the favor?"

"Limila comes home this afternoon, I think," Barton said. "She and I can work with you tomorrow and the next day, no sweat-one or two more if you need it. But then-Tarleton, I want to take her on vacation. Show her the country; be a couple of tourists. Get lost from here -see the sights and meer' the people. She needs it, you know, if she's going to be able" to give her people any idea of what we're really like. I mean, a project site doesn't give much of a true picture, does it?**

Tarleton was silent for a moment. Barton could sense the wheels going around, in that brain he had learned to respect more than a little. "Dammit, Barton," he said fi- nally, *'you're right. I should have thought of that. I guess I'm too wound up in production schedules. Fair enough; you and Limila bit here bright and early tomor- row, and I won't keep you a day longer'than I have to.

You'd better see the Finance Office today if you can, and put in for expense money for your tour. Those people cant put a stamp on a letter in less than forty-eight hours." Barton grinned; he knew about that.

Kreugel hadn't said much but he shook hands and said "Good luck" when Barton stood up to go. "Remind me to show you how our zap-gun works when you get back."

"Yeh, I want to aee that. OK, be seeing y'alL"

107.

Barton did stop at the Finance Office on his way home;

he had plenty of time. A Mr. Will Groundley was queru- lous and resentful that Barton should want anything out- side the routine. Barton's patience lasted quick, as the saying goes.

"Look," be said, "call Tarleton. He'll tell you yes or no, and tfaen you do it or you don't. But don't quote me any more goddam regulations, Groundley. We both know you can find something in your books to let you do anything you want, or keep you from doing anything you don't want. So get off the pot. Either you have the money here for me tomorrow, or Tarleton will find me somebody who wilL"

He didn't wait for an answer; one more word might have exceeded the limits of his control. He walked out and went home. For a change there were no notes in his mailbox. That was nice.

Before heading for Dr. Parr's, Barton unwrapped the results of his yesterday's shopping trip. Jeez, he hoped Linula would like them. He ran his fingers through the one he liked best...

Parr was not as infuriatingly languid as usual He seemed embarrassed, instead. "Good afternoon, Mr.

Barton," he said, "I'm happy to tell you that Limila checked out iOO percent; I can discharge -her uncon- ditionally. She'll be with us in a few minutes." Parr smiled; it took him a while to do it. "Would you like some coffee while we wait?" Might as well; Barton did fais nod. A young orderly brought coffee; they sipped it, bla-bla-ing politely. I was a bla-bia for the Space Agency, Barton thought

Then Limila came in, carrying a small suitcase. She wore a sort of turban with earrings pendant from her plastic lobes, a loose-fitting short chemise with contours that indicated Earth-positioned falsies, and half-calf suede boots. It wasn't the greatest ensemble Barton had ever seen in his life. but she moved well in it and hxs heart sang.

"I. can come home now, Barton," she said, "but first I must thank Dr. Parr for what he has done." She turned to Parr. "Doctor," she began, but choked on it. She tried once more. "Doctor. You have made me a person who wants to live, again."

Parr wasn't used to raw emotion; Barton saw him 108.