7.29 plus. Repeat--request your identification."

"Pilot Kennon, Jac, Beta 47M 26429. I have no I.D. for the ship--and
you'll see why when I land. Over."

"Hunterstown Port to Kennon. You are not--repeat not--cleared to land.
Go into orbit and report your position. Over."

"Sorry, Hunterstown. You wouldn't have checked in if you didn't have
room, and a hospital. This is an emergency. I'm setting down. Out."

"But--" The words got no farther. Kennon was already spinning the ship.

"All right--we have you on the scope. But this is a class one violation.
You may come in on Landing Beam One."

"Sorry. I have no GCA."

"What?--what sort of ship are you flying?" The voice was curious.

"I'm matching intrinsics over your port. Talk me in when I break through
the overcast."

"Talk you in?"

"That's right. My instruments are obsolete."

"Great Halstead! What else?"

"I have an Ion drive. Plus two radioactive."

"Oh no!--And you still want to come in?"

"I have to. My passenger's in shock. She's going to have a baby."

"All right--I'll try to get you down in one piece."

"Have an ambulance ready," Kennon said.

Kennon lowered the Egg through the overcast. Ground control picked him
up smoothly and took him down as though it had been rehearsed. The Egg
touched down in the radioactive area of the port. Decontamination jets
hissed, sluicing the ship to remove surface contamination.

"Ochsner! what sort of a ship is that?" Ground Control's startled voice
came over the annunciator.

"It's an old one," Kennon said.

"That's a gross understatement. Stand by for boarders. Ambulance coming
up."

Kennon opened the airlock and two radiation-suited men entered. "At
least you had sense enough to wear protective clothing in this hotbox,"
one said as they carefully unwebbed Copper and carried her out of the
lock. "You wait here. The Port Captain wants to see you."

"Where are you taking her? What Center?" Kennon asked.

"What should you care? You've nearly killed her. The idea of taking
a pregnant woman up in this death trap! What in Fleming's name's the
matter with your brain?"

"I had to," Kennon said. "I had to. It was a matter of life and death."
For once, he thought wryly, the cliche was true.

The Betan's face behind the transparent helmet was disgusted and
unbelieving. "I hear that sort of thing every day," he said. "Am I
supposed to believe it?"

"You'd believe it if you'd have been where I was," Kennon m