new only too well, since they had a long history of war on
each planet.

Inevitably, the Nigrans were driven back to the Black Star.[A]

The war was over. And things became dull. And the taste of adventure
still remained on the tongues of Arcot, Wade, and Morey.

[Footnote A: See "_The Black Star Passes_", Ace Books, F-346.]

I

Three men sat around a table which was littered with graphs, sketches of
mathematical functions, and books of tensor formulae. Beside the table
stood a Munson-Bradley integraph calculator which one of the men was
using to check some of the equations he had already derived. The results
they were getting seemed to indicate something well above and beyond
what they had expected.

And anything that surprised the team of Arcot, Wade, and Morey was
surprising indeed.

The intercom buzzed, interrupting their work.

Dr. Richard Arcot reached over and lifted the switch. "Arcot speaking."

The face that flashed on the screen was businesslike and determined.
"Dr. Arcot, Mr. Fuller is here. My orders are to check with you on all
visitors."

Arcot nodded. "Send him up. But from now on, I'm not in to anyone but my
father or the Interplanetary Chairman or the elder Mr. Morey. If they
come, don't bother to call, just send 'em up. I will not receive calls
for the next ten hours. Got it?"

"You won't be bothered, Dr. Arcot."

Arcot cut the circuit and the image collapsed.

Less than two minutes later, a light flashed above the door. Arcot
touched the release, and the door slid aside. He looked at the man
entering and said, with mock coldness:

"If it isn't the late John Fuller. What did you do--take a plane? It
took you an hour to get here from Chicago."

Fuller shook his head sadly. "Most of the time was spent in getting past
your guards. Getting to the seventy-fourth floor of the Transcontinental
Airways Building is harder than stealing the Taj Mahal." Trying to
suppress a grin, Fuller bowed low. "Besides, I think it would do your
royal highness good to be kept waiting for a while. You're paid a couple
of million a year to putter around in a lab while honest people work for
a living. Then, if you happen to stub your toe over some useful gadget,
they increase your pay. They call you scientists and spend the resources
of two worlds to get you anything you want--and apologize if they don't
get it within twenty-four hours.

"No doubt about it; it will do your majesties good to wait."