e them set up a desk and chairs for
four out in the middle of the field. Call the Ministry for Traffic and
make sure that field stays clear until we're through with it. My
Ministerial prerogative, and no back-talk. I want that car in ten
minutes."

"Yes, sir."

Mary's voice was perfectly even, without the slightest hint that there
was anything unusual happening. Marlowe switched off and twisted his
mouth.

He picked up the GenSurv on the Dovenil area and began skimming it
rapidly.

* * * * *

He kept his eyes carefully front as he walked out of his office, past
the battery of clerks in the outer office, and down the hall. He kept
them rigidly fixed on the door of his personal elevator which, during
the day, was human-operated under the provisions of the Human Employment
Act of 2302. He met Mead in front of the building and did not look into
the eyes of Bussard, the man from Emigration, as they shook hands. He
followed them down the walk in a sweating agony of obliviousness, and
climbed into the car with carefully normal lack of haste.

He sat sweating, chewing a candy bar, for several minutes before he
spoke. Then, slowly, he felt his battered defenses reassert themselves,
and he could actually look at Bussard, before he turned to Mead.

"Now, then," he rapped out a shade too abruptly before he caught
himself. "Here's the GenSurv on the Dovenil area, Chris. Anything in it
you don't know already?"

"I don't think so, sir."

"O.K., dig me up a habitable planet--even a long-term False-E will
do--close to Dovenil, but not actually in their system. If it's at all
possible, I want that world in a system without any rich planets. And I
don't want any rich systems anywhere near it. If you can't do that,
arrange for the outright sale of all mineral and other resource rights
to suitable companies. I want that planet to be habitable, but I want it
to be impossible for any people on it to get at enough resources to
achieve a technological culture. Can do?"

Mead shook his head. "I don't know."

"You've got about fifteen minutes to find out. I'm going to start
talking to Holliday, and when I tell him I've got another planet for
him, I'll be depending on you to furnish one. Sorry to pile it on like
this, but must be."

Mead nodded. "Right, Mr. Marlowe. That's why I draw pay."

"Good boy. Now, uh--" Rabbit. "Bussard. I want you to be ready to lay
out a complete advertising and prospectu