the
stuff, on delivery, and no questions asked."

"That's not very much help, is it?" Quillan said after a moment.
"Something a big crooked industrial combine like Yaco thinks it can
use--"

"It must expect to be able to use it to extremely good advantage,"
Reetal said. "The Brotherhood will collect thirty million credits for
their part of the operation. The commodore's group presumably won't do
any worse." She glanced past Quillan toward the room portal. "It's
O.K., Heraga! Come in."

* * * * *

Sher Heraga was a lean, dark-skinned little man with a badly bent
nose, black curly hair, and a nervous look. He regretted, he said,
that he hadn't been able to uncover anything which might be a lead to
the location of the bomb. Apparently, it wasn't even being guarded.
And, of course, a bomb of the size required here would be quite easy
to conceal.

"If they haven't placed guards over it," Reetal agreed, "it'll take
blind luck to spot it! Unless we can get hold of one of the men who
knows where it's planted--"

There was silence for some seconds. Then Quillan said, "Well, if we
can't work out a good plan, we'd better see what we can do with one of
the bad ones. Are the commodore's security men wearing uniforms?"

Heraga shook his head, "Not the ones I saw."

"Then here's an idea," Quillan said. "As things stand, barging into
the Executive Block with a small armed group can't accomplish much. It
might be more interesting than sitting around and waiting to be blown
up, but it still would be suicide. However, if we could get things
softened up and disorganized in there first--"

"Softened up and disorganized how?" Reetal asked.

"We can use that notion you had of having Heraga float in another
diner. This time, I'm on board--in a steward's uniform, in case the
guards check."

"They didn't the first time," Heraga said.

"Sloppy of them. Well, they're just gun hands. Anyway, once we're
inside I shuck off the uniform and get out. Heraga delivers his
goodies, and leaves again--"

Reetal gave him a look. "You'll get shot down the instant you're seen,
dope!"

"I think not. There're two groups in there--around a hundred men in
all--and they haven't had time to get well acquainted yet. I'll have
my gun in sight, and anyone who sees me should figure I belong to the
other group, until I run into one of the Brotherhood boys who knows me
personally."

"Then that's when you get shot down. I