his eyes and mumbled under his breath I
riffled some papers, relaxed and cool. The ratings and officers waited
tensely, and made some slight attempt to conceal their hatred of me. It
took about ten minutes to get an answer.

"Affirmative," the psiman said. "A store ship docked there twenty hours
before the attack. Among other things, it left newspapers containing the
article."

"Very good," I said calmly. "Send a general order to suspend all future
activity with the planted releases. Send it by psimen only, no mention
on any other Naval signaling equipment, there's a good chance now it
might be 'overheard.'"

I strolled out slowly, in command of the situation. Keeping my face
turned away so they couldn't see the cold sweat.

* * * * *

It was a fast run to Udrydde where my billionaire's yacht, the
_Eldorado_, was waiting. The dockyard commander showed me the ship, and
made a noble effort to control his curiosity. I took a sadistic revenge
on the Navy by not telling him a word about my mission. After checking
out the controls and special apparatus with the technicians, I cleared
the ship. There was a tape in the automatic navigator that would put me
on the course mentioned in all the articles, just a press of a button
and I would be on my way. I pressed the button.

It was a beautiful ship, and the dockyard had been lavish with their
attention to detail. From bow to rear tubes she was plated in pure gold.
There are other metals with a higher albedo, but none that give a richer
effect. All the fittings, inside and out, were either machine-turned or
plated. All this work could not have been done in the time allotted, the
Navy must have adapted a luxury yacht to my needs.

Everything was ready. Either Pepe would make his move--or I would sail
on to my billionaire's paradise planet. If that happened, it would be
best if I stayed there.

Now that I was in space, past the point of no return, all the doubts
that I had dismissed fought for attention. The plan that had seemed so
clear and logical now began to look like a patched and crazy makeshift.

"Hold on there, sailor," I said to myself. Using my best admiral's
voice. "Nothing has changed. It's still the best and _only_ plan
possible under the circumstances."

Was it? Could I be sure that Pepe, flying his mountain of a ship and
eating Navy rations, would be interested in some of the comforts and
luxuries of life? Or if the luxuries