uttered.
"Now--whe're are you taking her?" he demanded.

The man arched blond eyebrows. "To the local Medical Center--where else?
There's only one in this area."

"Thanks," Kennon said.

He watched the ambulance flit off as he waited for the Spaceport Patrol.
There was no further need for the protection suit, so he peeled it off
and hung it in the control-room locker. Copper was right, he mused. It
did itch.

The Port Captain's men were late as usual--moving gingerly through the
radiation area. A noncom gestured for him to enter their carryall. "Port
Captain wants to see you," he said.

"I know," Kennon replied.

"You should have waited upstairs."

"I couldn't. It was a matter of medicine," Kennon said.

The noncom's face sobered. "Why didn't you say so? All you said was that
it was an emergency."

"I've been away. I forgot."

"You shouldn't have done that. You're a Betan, aren't you?"

Kennon nodded.

They drove to the Port Office, where Kennon expected--and got--a bad
time from the port officials. He filled out numerous forms, signed
affidavits, explained his unauthorized landing, showed his spaceman's
ticket, defended his act of piloting without an up-to-date license,
signed more forms, entered a claim for salvage rights to the Egg, and
finally when the Legal Division, the Traffic Control Division, the
Spaceport Safety Office, Customs, Immigration, and Travelers Aid had
finished with him, he was ushered into the presence of the Port Captain.

The red-faced chunky officer eyed him with a cold stare. "You'll be
lucky, young man, if you get out of this with a year in Correction. Your
story doesn't hang together."

It didn't, Kennon thought. But there was no sense telling all of it to
a Port Captain. Under no circumstances could the man be any help to him.
He had neither the power nor the prestige to request a Brotherhood Board
of Inquiry. In rank, he was hardly more than a glorified Traffic Control
officer. It would do no good to tell him an improbable tale of slavery
on a distant planet. The only thing to do was wait out the storm and
hope it would pass. If worst came to worst he'd use his rank, but he'd
made enough stir already. He doubted if the Captain had authority to
order him into Detention--but he was certain to get a lecture. These
minor officials loved to tell someone off. He gritted his teeth. He'd
endure it for Copper's sake--and to get out of here quietly. Alexander
would undoubtedly have