urn direct to Earth--or
Lunar City--for a very definite reason. Cochrane meant to have all his
business affairs neatly wrapped up before landing. They could get
another show or two across, and some highly involved contracts could be
haggled to completion more smoothly if one of the parties--Spaceways,
Inc.--was not available except when it felt like being available. The
other parties would be more anxious.

So the astrogation-conference did not deal with a direct return to
Earth, but with a small sol-type star not too far out of the direct
line. The Pole Star could have been visited, but it was a double star.
Cochrane had no abstract scientific curiosity. His approach was strictly
that of a man of business. He did the business.

There was, of course, a suitable pause not too far from the second
planet--the planet of the shaggy beasts. They put out a plastic balloon
with a Dabney field generator inside it. It would float in emptiness
indefinitely. The field would hold for not less than twenty years. It
would serve as a beacon, a highway, a railroad track through space for
other ships planning to visit the third world now available to men.
Ultimately, better arrangements could be made.

Jones was already ecstatically designing ground-level Dabney field
installations. There would be Dabney fields extending from star to star.
Along them, as along pneumatic tubes, ships would travel at unthinkable
speeds toward absolutely certain destinations. True, at times they could
not be used because of the bulk of planets between starting-points and
landing-stations. But with due attention to scheduling, it would be a
simple matter indeed to arrange for something close to commuters'
service between star-clusters. He explained all this to Cochrane, with
Holden listening in.

"Oh, surely!" said Cochrane cynically. "And you'll have tax-payers
objecting because you make money. You'll be regulated out of existence.
Were you thinking that Spaceways would run this transportation system
you're planning, without cutting anybody else in on even the glory of
it?"

Jones looked at him, dead-pan. But he was annoyed.

"I want some money," he said. "I thought we could get this thing set up,
and then I could get myself a ship and facilities for doing some really
original work. I'd like to work something out and not have to sell the
publicity-rights to it!"

"I'll arrange it," promised Cochrane. "I've got our lawyers setting up a
deal right no