s right." Hilton drew a tremendously deep breath. "As of right
now."

"Tuly, too, of course ... and Doctor Cummings, I think?" Larry looked,
not at Hilton, but at Temple Bells.

"I think so. Yes, after this, most certainly yes," Temple said.

"But listen!" Sandra protested. "Jarve's a lot better than I am!"

"Not at all," Tuly said. "Not only would his contribution to Team One be
negligible, but he must stay on his own job. Otherwise the project will
all fall apart."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that ..." Hilton began.

"You don't need to," Kincaid said. "It's being said for you and it's
true. Besides, 'When in Rome,' you know."

"That's right. It's their game, not ours, so I'll buy it. So scat, all
of you, and do your stuff."

And again, for days that lengthened slowly into weeks, the work went on.

One evening the scientific staff was giving itself a concert--a tri-di
hi-fi rendition of _Rigoletto_, one of the greatest of the ancient
operas, sung by the finest voices Terra had ever known. The men wore
tuxedos. The girls, instead of wearing the nondescript, non-provocative
garments prescribed by the Board for their general wear, were all
dressed to kill.

Sandra had so arranged matters that she and Hilton were sitting in
chairs side by side, with Sandra on his right and the aisle on his left.
Nevertheless, Temple Bells sat at his left, cross-legged on a cushion on
the floor--somewhat to the detriment of her gold-lame evening gown. Not
that she cared.

When those wonderful voices swung into the immortal _Quartette_ Temple
caught her breath, slid her cushion still closer to Hilton's chair, and
leaned shoulder and head against him. He put his left hand on her
shoulder, squeezing gently; she caught it and held it in both of hers.
And at the _Quartette's_ tremendous climax she, scarcely trying to
stifle a sob, pulled his hand down and hugged it fiercely, the heel of
his hand pressing hard against her half-bare, firm, warm breast.

And the next morning, early, Sandra hunted Temple up and said: "You made
a horrible spectacle of yourself last night."

* * * * *

"Do you think so? I don't."

"I certainly do. It was bad enough before, letting everybody else aboard
know that all he has to do is push you over. But it was an awful
blunder to let _him_ know it, the way you did last night."

"You think so? He's one of the keenest, most intelligent men who ever
lived. He has known that from t