morning, almost
everything was working, and they were sending a signal across
twenty-eight million miles to Storisende, on Poictesme.

It was late evening, Storisende time, but Rodney Maxwell, who must
have been camping beside his own screen, came on at once, which is to
say five and a half minutes later.

"Well, I see you got in somewhere. Where are you, and how is
everything?"

Then he picked up a cigar out of an ashtray in front of him and lit
it, waiting.

"Port Carpenter; we're in the main administration building," Conn told
him. He talked for a while about what they had found and done since
their arrival. "Have you an extra viewscreen, fitted for recording?"
he asked.

Five and a half minutes later, his father nodded. "Yes, right here."
He leaned forward and away from the communication screen in front of
him. "I have it on." He gave the wave-length combination. "Ready to
receive."

"This is about all we have, now. Views we took coming in, from the
ship and a scout-boat." He started transmitting them. "We haven't sent
in any claims yet. I wasn't sure whether I should make them for
Alpha-Interplanetary, or Litchfield Exploration & Salvage."

"Don't bother sending in anything to the Claims Office," his father
said. "Send anything you want to claim in here to me, and I'll have
Sterber, Flynn & Chen-Wong file them. They'll be made for a new
company we're organizing."

"What? Another one?"

His father nodded, grinning. "Koshchei Exploitation & Development;
we've made application already. We can't claim exclusive rights to the
whole planet, like the old interstellar exploration companies did
before the War, but since you're the only people on the planet, we can
come pretty close to it by detail." He was looking to one side, at the
other screen. "Great Ghu, Conn! This place of yours all together
beats everything I ever dug, Force Command and Barathrum Spaceport
included. How big would you say it is? More than ten miles in radius?"

"About five or six. Ten or twelve miles across."

"That's all right, then. We'll just claim the building you're in, now,
and the usual ten-mile radius, the same as at Force Command. We'll
claim the place as soon as the company's chartered; in the meantime,
send in everything else you can get views of."

They set up a regular radio-and-screen watch after that. Charley
Gatworth and Piet Ludvyckson, both of whom were studying astrogation
in hopes of qualifying as space officers af