"Rooms 2A and 2B, sir. To find them-"

''I'l find them. I'm sure one of these men will direct me. And now, Lieutenant Nevsky, that you've directed us to our quarters, I think your assignment is completed. I'll be seeing you again."

"I can't leave!" said Lieutenant Nevsky in a low, appalled whisper.

"I think you can."

"Sure you can, Lieutenant," said Summers, grinning more broadly than ever. "A simple hello won't hurt the boy." There was a snicker of laughter from the men behind him. "And besides, you've been asked to leave."

Bigman approached Lucky and muttered in an urgent whisper. "Lucky, let me give the V-frog to the lieutenant I can't fight and hold it, too."

"You just hold it," said Lucky. "I want it exactly here… Good day, Lieutenant. Dismissed!"

The lieutenant hesitated, and Lucky said in a tone that, for all its softness, bit like steel. "That's an order, Lieutenant."

Lieutenant Nevsky's face assumed a soldierly rigidity. He said sharply, "Yes, sir."

Then, surprisingly, he hesitated one further moment and glanced down at the V-frog in the crook of Big-man's arm, as it chewed idly at a fern frond. "Take care of that little thing." He turned and was in the Agrav corridor in two steps, disappearing almost at once in a rush of speed.

Lucky turned to face the men again. He was under no illusions. They were grim-faced and they meant business, but unless he could face them down and prove that he meant business as well, his mission would come to nothing against the rock of their hostility. He would have to win them over somehow.

Summers' smile had become the least bit wolfish. He said, "Well, now, friend, the uniform-boy is gone. We can talk. Fm Red Summers. What's your name?"

Lucky smiled in return. "My name is David Starr. My friend's name is Bigman."

"Seems to me I heard you called Lucky when all that whispering was going on a while back."

"I'm called Lucky by my friends."

"Isn't that nice. Do you want to stay lucky?"

"Do you know a good way?"

"Matter of fact, Lucky Starr, I do." Suddenly his face contorted itself into a bitter scowl. "Get off Jupiter Nine."

There was a hoarse roar of approval from the others, and a few voices took up the cry of "Get off! Get off!"

They crowded closer, but Lucky stood his ground. "I have important reasons to stay on Jupiter Nine."

"In that case, I'm afraid you aren't lucky," said Summers. "You're a greenhorn and you look soft, and soft greenhorns get hurt on Jupiter Nine. We worry about you."

"I think I won't get hurt."

"That's what you think, eh?" said Summers. "Ar-mand, come here."

From the ranks behind him, a huge man stepped forward, round-faced, beefy of build, with large shoulders and a barrel chest. He topped Lucky's six feet one by half a head and looked down at the young councilman with a smile that showed yellowed, wide-spaced teeth.

The men were beginning to take seats on the floor. They shouted to one another with lighthearted cheer, as though they were about to watch a ball game.

One called out, "Hey, Armand, watch out you don't step on the kid!"

Bigman started, and glared furiously in the direction of the voice but could not identify the speaker.

Summers said, "You could still leave, Starr."

Lucky said, "I have no intention of doing so, particularly at a moment when you seem to be planning some sort of entertainment."

"Not for you," said Summers. "Now listen, Starr, we're ready for you. We've been ready since we got word that you were coming. We've had enough of you little tinhorns from Earth and we aren't taking any more. I've got men stationed on various levels. We'll know if the commander tries to interfere, and if he does, then by Jupiter, we're ready to go on strike. Am I right, men?"

"Right!" came back the multiple roar.

"And the commander knows it," said Summers, "and I don't think he'll interfere. So this gives us our chance to give you our initiation and after that I'll ask you again if you want to leave. If you're conscious, that is."

"You're going to a lot of trouble for nothing," said Lucky. "What harm am I doing you?"

"You won't be doing us any," said Summers. "I guarantee that."

Bigman said, in his tense, high-pitched voice, "Look, you cobber, you're talking to a councilman. Have you stopped to figure what happens if you fool with the Council of Science?"

Summers looked at him suddenly, put his fists on his hips, and bent his head back to laugh. "Hey, men, it talks. I was wondering what it was. It looks as though Lucky Snoop has brought along his baby brother for protection."

Bigman went dead-white, but under the cover of the laughter Lucky stooped and spoke through stiff lips. "Your job is to hang on to the V-frog, Bigman. I'll take care of Summers. And, Great Galaxy, Bigman, stop broadcasting anger! I can't get a thing on the V-frog except that."

Bigman swallowed hard twice, three tunes.

Summers said softly, "Now, Councilman Snoop, can you maneuver under Agrav?"

"I just have, Mr. Summers."

"Well, we'll just have to test you and make sure. We can't have anyone around who hasn't learned all the Agrav ropes. It's too dangerous. Right, men?"

"Right!" they roared again.

"Armand here," said Summers, and his hand rested on one of Armand's huge shoulders, "is our best teacher. You'll know all about Agrav maneuvering when you're through with him. Or you will know if you stay out of his way. I suggest you get out into the Agrav corridor now. Armand will join you."

Lucky said, "If I choose not to go?"

"Then we'll throw you into the corridor anyway and Armand goes after you."

Lucky nodded. "You seem determined. Are there any rules to this lesson I'm going to get?"

There was wild laughter, but Summers held up his arms. "Just keep out of Armand's way, Councilman. That' s the only rule you'll have to remember. We'll be at the lip of the corridor watching. If you try to crawl out of Agrav before you've completed your lesson, we'll throw you back in, and there are men stationed at other levels, watching, and they're ready to do the same."

Bigman cried, "Sands of Mars, your man outweighs Lucky by fifty pounds and he's an expert with Agrav!"

Summers turned on him in mock surprise. "No! I never thought of that. What a shame!" There was laughter from the men. "On your way, Starr. Get into the corridor, Armand. Drag him in if you have to."

"He won't have to," said Lucky. He turned and moved into the open space of the wide Agrav corridor. As his feet drifted out into empty air, his fingers caught gently at the wall, twisting him in a slow, turning motion that he stopped with another touch against the wall. He stood there in midair, facing the men.

There was some murmuring at Lucky's maneuver, and Armand nodded, speaking for the first time in a rolling appreciative bass. "Hey, mister, that's not bad."

Summers, lips suddenly set and with a frown newly creasing his forehead, struck Armand a sharp blow on the back. "Don't talk, you idiot! Get in after him and give it to him."

Armand moved forward slowly. He said, "Hey, Red, let's not make too much of this."

Summers' face contorted in fury. "Get in there! And you do what I said. I told you what he is. If we don't get rid of him, they'll be sending more." His words were a harsh whisper that didn't carry.

Armand stepped into the corridor and stood face to face with Lucky.

Lucky Starr waited in what was almost absence of mind. He was concentrating on the faint whiffs of emotion brought him by the V-frog. Some he could recognize without difficulty, both as to their nature and their owner. Red Summers was easiest to detect: fear and niggling hate mixed with an undertone of anxious triumph. Armand loosed a small leak of tension. Occasionally there were sharp pinpoints of excitement from one or another, and sometimes Lucky could identify the owner because it coincided with a happy shout or a threatening one. All of it had to be sorted out from the steady trickle of Bigman's anger, of course.