irrul to the control blister.

"How long will it be, this trip to Vinin?" Dirrul asked, speaking very
slowly in classical Vininese. Like everyone in the Movement he had
studied the language of Vinin as a sort of courtesy and duty but he
had no illusion about his small ability to handle it.

"In terms of your time," the pilot said, "about thirty days."

"Only thirty? The Planetary Union hasn't a ship that could make it
under sixty!"

"But this is a Space-dragon." The words were self-explanatory.

Proudly the pilot showed Dirrul the controls, as functional and as
uncomplex as the cool clean lines of the ship herself. The design was
so logical, so basically simple, that within a few minutes Dirrul
understood enough of the mechanism to have driven the ship himself.

"Your scientists could do as well," the pilot suggested, "if they
wished."

"Not mine," Dirrul said.

"Pardon--the scientists of the Planetary Union. On Vinin we create for
the future, for the progress of the Confederacy. We have no patience
with petty argument, tedious experimentation or the pointless
splitting of hairs that seems to occupy so much of your time here. For
us a scientist is a producer, like everyone else. If he fails to do
his job we replace him."

Pleased with the comparison the pilot chuckled over his dials as he
turned on the power. Above the roar he said to Dirrul, "We must talk
again one day, sir. If you ever have the good fortune to come to Vinin
be sure to look me up."

II

As the Vininese ship shot smoothly out into the night sky, Dirrul's
surface jet slashed back toward the Agronian capital. A synthetic
tension, which he deliberately fed with nightmare improbabilities,
kept him reasonably alert until he had safely returned the jet to its
place in the compound. Then weariness engulfed him. Groggily he
staggered to the pneumotube and within five minutes he was asleep in
the small two-room worker's apartment where he lived.

The insistent _ping_ of the door visiscope woke him. Dirrul glanced at
his wall clock and saw that it was still early morning. He had slept
less than three hours. Swearing angrily he turned down the visiarm.
Dr. Kramer's serene aging white-bearded face was mirrored on the
grey-tinted screen.

"Good morning, Edward," Kramer said with excessive cheerfulness. "For
a moment I was afraid I had missed you. I've brought a transcription
of the lecture you missed yesterday."

Dirrul swung out of bed and push