," he
agreed, finally.

"What points?"

"War, or being out-Gunthered. Top Gunther takes top place; man, woman,
bird, beast, fish, or bug-eyed monster."

"Oh." Belle was staggered for a moment. "No war, of course. As to the
other ... I hadn't thought of that."

"There are a lot of things none of us has thought of, but as amended
I'll buy it."

"Then several Regional Admirals, each with his Regional Vice Admiral.
Then System Admirals and Vices, and World or Planetary--naming the
planet, you know--Admirals and Vices. Let the various Galaxian Societies
take over from there down. How do you like _them_ potatoes, Buster?"

"Nice. And formal address, intra-ship, will be Mister and Miss. Jim and
Brownie?"

They liked it. "Where do we fit in?" James asked.

"Pick your own spots," Garlock said.

"If we stick to the Solar System we aren't so apt to get bumped by
Primes. So make me Solar System Admiral and Brownie my Vice."

"Okay. How long will it take you, Belle, to materialize those uniforms?"

"Fifteen seconds longer than it takes the converter to scan us. Lola's
color scheme is right, and I've got everything else down to the last
curlicue of chrome. Let's go."

* * *

They went: and came back into the Main in uniform. Belle had really done
a job.

That of the men, while something on the spectacular side, was more or
less conventional, with stiff-visored, screened, heavily-chromed caps;
but the women's! Slippers, overseas caps, shorts and jackets--but what
jackets!

"Well...." Garlock said, after examining the two girls speechlessly for
a good half minute. "It doesn't look _exactly_ like a spray-on job; but
if you ever take a deep breath it'll split from here to there. Fly
off--leave you naked as a jay-bird."

"Oh, no. The fabric stretches a little. See? Nothing like a sweater, but
a similar effect--perhaps a bit more so."

"Quite a bit more so, I'd say. However, since Operators and Primes are
automatically stacked like Tennick Towers, I don't suppose your recruits
will be unduly perturbed at, or will squawk too much about,
overexposure. Are we finally ready to go down and get to work?"

"I am," James said. "How do you want to handle it?"

"Run a search pattern. Belle and I will center their Op field and check
on Ops and Primes. You two probe at will."

Around and around the planet, in brief bursts of completely
incomprehensible speed, the huge ship darted; the biggest, sol