got all-of-a-sudden exasperated. "Unless your instruments are
running on secondhand flashlight batteries, you've known I was coming
for the past half hour. I followed Ravenhurst's instructions not to
use radio, but he should know I'm here by this time. He told me to
come as fast as possible, and I followed those instructions, too. I
always follow instructions when I'm paid enough.

"Now, I'm here; tell Ravenhurst I want to talk to him, or I'll simply
flit back to Eros, and thank him much for a pretty retainer that
didn't do him any good but gave me a nice profit for my trouble."

"One moment, please," said the voice.

It took about a minute and a half, which was about nine billion
jiffies too long, as far as I was concerned.

Then another voice said: "Oak? Wasn't expecting you till tomorrow."

"So I hear. I thought you were in a hurry, but if you're not, you can
just provide me with wine, women, and other necessities until
tomorrow. That's above and beyond my fee, of course, since you're
wasting my time, and I'm evidently not wasting yours."

I couldn't be sure whether the noise he made was a grunt or a muffled
chuckle, and I didn't much care. "Sorry, Oak; I really didn't expect
you so soon, but I do want to ... I want you to get started right
away. Leave your flitterboat where it is; I'll have someone take care
of it. Walk on over to the dome and come on in." And he cut off.

I growled something I was glad he didn't hear and hung up. I wished
that I'd had a vision unit on the phone; I'd like to have seen his
face. Although I knew I might not have learned much more from his
expression than I had from his voice.

* * * * *

I got out of the flitterboat, and walked across the dome, my magnetic
soles making subdued clicking noises inside the suit as they caught
and released the metallic plain beneath me. Beyond the field, I was
surrounded by a lumpy horizon and a black sky full of bright, hard
stars.

The green light was on when I reached the door to the dome, so I
opened it and went on in, closing it behind me. I flipped the toggle
that began flooding the room with air. When it was up to pressure, a
trap-door in the floor of the dome opened and a crew-cut, blond young
man stuck his head up. "Mr. Oak?"

I toyed, for an instant, with the idea of giving him a sarcastic
answer. Who else would it be? How many other visitors were running
around on the surface of Raven's Rest?

Inst