pments began.

* * *

Alonzo P. Ferber was one of the VIP's on Bundy's personally-conducted
tour of the stars. As has been said, he was a very able executive. He
had an extremely keen profit-sense. This new thing smelled--simply
reeked--of money. SSE would _have_ to get in on it.

Ferber was not thin-skinned; where money was concerned it would never
even occur to him to cherish grudges or to retain animosities. Wherefore
SSE's purchasing department suggested to the Galaxian Society that
negotiations be opened concerning licenses, franchises, royalties, and
so on. These suggestions were politely but firmly brushed off. Then
emissaries were sent, of ever-increasing caliber and weight. Next,
Ferber himself tried the tri-di; and finally, he came in person.

Rebuffed, he made such legally-sound threats that Evans and Macey agreed
to a meeting; stating flatly, however, that no commitments could
possibly be made without the knowledge and approval of the Society's
president, Cleander Garlock. Thus, at the meeting, the Galaxians made
only two statements that were even approximately definite. One was that
Garlock would probably return to Earth during the afternoon or evening
of the following Friday; the other that they would take the matter up
with Garlock as soon as they could.

After that meeting Macey was unperturbed, but Evans was a deeply worried
man.

"You see," he explained, "the real crux was not even mentioned."

"No? What is it, then?"

"Operators, Primes, and the practically non-existent laws pertaining to
their ... what? Labor? Skill? Genius? For instance, could Garlock be
forced to do whatever it is that he does? On the other hand, if Ferber
offered Belle Bellamy five million credits a year to 'work' for SSE, is
there anything we could do about it?"

"Oh. I thought all there was to it was that you'd delay 'em for a year
or so and that'd be it."

"Far from it. To date I have listed fifty-eight points for which, as far
as we can learn, there are no precedents," and the lawyer called a
meeting of his staff.

For Belle and Garlock, the week went fast. On Friday afternoon, high
above Earth's Galaxian Field, Garlock said, more than half regretfully,
"No more fun. Back to the desk. Back to the salt-mines."

"I weep for you," Belle snickered. "Sob, sob. Shed him a tear, Lola."

"One tear coming up. Oh, woe; oh, woe...."

"Oh, whoa!" James snorted. "Why the sob-and-moan routine, Cl