I resolved not to open my mouth for any reason, feeling quite disgruntled. Disgruntled? I found myself giving serious thought to whether or not Hilda's temporary and inappropriate authority could do permanent harm to her personality.

But the top of my mind was observing the Lord High Executioner, approaching us flanked by two henchmen. He was wearing a uniform more suited to musical comedy than to the field. Fierce moustaches, sunburn-pink complexion, service ribbons, and a swagger cane completed the effect.

His henchmen were younger, not so fancy, fewer ribbons, and appeared to be sergeants. I could not read the officer's shoulder straps. A crown, I thought, but was there a pip beside it?

He strode toward us and was ten meters from my door when Hilda said firmly, "That's close enough. Please tell the Governor General that Captain Burroughs has grounded as directed and awaits his pleasure."

He stopped briefly and bellowed, "You were not directed to land here! You're supposed to be at the field! Customs, immigration, health inspection, visas, tourist cards, intelligence-"

I saw Hilda squeeze Zeb's shoulder. 'Quiet!" Her voice came more loudly

from outside than from her despite Gay's soundproofing. Zeb reduced gain as she continued, "My good man, send one of your ratings to the Governor General to deliver my message. While we wait, state your name, rank, and regiment; I shall make formal report of your behavior."

"Preeeposterous!" -,

"Behavior 'unbecoming an officer and a gentleman," Hilda said with gentle sweetness, "since you insist. While you won't tell your name, like a naughty boy, others know it. The Paymaster. The Governor General. Others." She squeezed Zeb's shoulder. "Deliver my message!"

"I'm Colonel Brumby, Chief Constable of the Imperial Household, and not your messenger boy! Open up! I'm going to parade you before the Governor General-under arrest!"

Hilda said quietly to Zeb, "Seven"-allowed the Chief Constable to stride two more steps before saying, "STOP!"

My ears hurt.

All three stopped. The old fool braced himself and started again. Hilda must have poked Zeb; he answered with thumbs-up. "Back to normal volume but be ready with that earthquake."

He nodded; she went on, "Leftenant Colonel, is it not? I don't see that extra pip. Leftenant Colonel, I warn you for your own safety not to come closer."

He did not answer, kept coming, took his cane from under his arm. His sergeants followed-slowly, at a respectful distance. Hilda let him reach my door-I could see a network of broken veins on his nose-and for the second time in two days someone started to pound on Gay's door. He raised his cane- "Stop that!"

I was deafened. The Chief Constable was missing. The sergeants were a long way back. They stopped running, turned and faced us. I looked down through my door's port, saw a pair of legs and a swagger cane-inferred a torso.

I turned my head, saw that Zeb had his thumb up. "Captain," he said, "I disobeyed you."

"How, Zebbie?"

"I gave him an eight; I wasn't sure his heart could take a ten. He looks like an old bottle-a-day man."

"An eight may have been too much," I commented. "He's on the ground. Dead, maybe."

"Oh, I hope not!"

"Unlikely, Captain," Zeb told her. "Shall I tell his noncoms to come get him?"

"I'll tell them, Zebbie. Normal level." Hilda waited until he signalled, then called out, "Sergeants! Colonel Brumby needs help. There will be no more loud noises."

The sergeants hesitated, then hurried. Shortly they were dragging him away. Presently he came to life, fought them off-sent one chasing back for his cane. The man caught my eye-and winked. I concluded that Brumby was not popular.

There was now a man standing on the entrance stairs. (Perhaps there had been people nearby earlier-but not after the noise started.) Imperial House had its ground floor with no doors on the front side. The first floor was the main floor and was reached by wide, sweeping stairs. The man near the top was small, dapper, dressed in mufti. As Brumby reached him, Brumby saluted, stopped, and they talked. Brumby's ramrod stiffness spoke for itself.

Shortly the smaller man trotted down the long steps, moved quickly toward us, stopped about thirty meters away, and called out, "In the landing craft! Is it safe to come closer?"

"Certainly," agreed Hilda.

"Thank you, Ma'am." He approached, talking as he walked. "I dare say we should introduce ourselves. I'm Lieutenant General Smythe-Carstairs, the Governor hereabouts. I take it you are Captain Burroughs?"

"That is correct, Excellency."

"Thank you. Although I can't tell, really, to whom I am speaking. Awkward, is it not, chatting via an announcing system? An open door would be pleasanter, don't you think? More friendly."

"You are right, Excellency. But the Russians gave us so unpleasant, so dangerous, a reception that I am nervous."

"Those bounders. They have been making a bit of fuss over you, on the wireless. That was how I recognized your craft-smaller than they claimed but an accurate description-for a Russian. But surely you don't think that we British wear our shirt tails out? You will receive decent treatment here."

"That is pleasing to hear, Excellency. I was tempted to leave. That policeman chap is most unpleasant."

"Sorry about that. Sheer mischance that he was first to greet you. Important as this colony is to the Empire, no doubt you have heard that being posted to it is not welcome to some. Not my own case, I asked for it. But some ranks and ratings. Now let's have that door open, shall we? I dislike to insist but I am in charge here."

Hilda looked thoughtful. "Governor General, I can either open the doors or leave. I prefer to stay. But the shocking treatment by the Russians followed by the totally unexpected behavior of your chief constable causes me to worry. I need a guarantee that our party will be permitted to remain together at all times, and a written safe-conduct for us, signed and sealed by you on behalf of H.I.M."

"My dear Captain, a captain does not bargain with one who stands in place of and holds the authority of His Imperial Majesty. As a man, and you being a delightful lady, I would be happy to bargain with you endlessly just for the pleasure of your company. But I can't."

"I was not bargaining, Excellency; I was hoping for a boon. Since you will not grant it, I must leave at once."

He shook his head. "I cannot permit you to leave as yet."

"Gay Bounce. Zebbie, will you try to reach that nice Mr. Bean?"

Zeb had him shortly. 'Leftenant Bean heah."

"Captain Burroughs, Leftenant. Our radio chopped off while you were talk-

ing. No harm done; the important part got through. We grounded where you told us to, due south of Imperial House."

"So that's what happened? I must admit to feeling relieved."

"Is your post of duty in Imperial House?"

"Yes, Ma'am. On it, rather. We have a small housing on the roof"

"Good. I have a message for the Governor General. Will you record?"

"Oh, certainly."

"This is Hilda Burroughs speaking, Master of Spacecraft Gay Deceiver out of Snug Harbor. I am sorry that I had to leave without saying good-bye. But your last statement forced me to take measures to protect my craft and crew." My darling Hilda cut the mike. "Zebbie, when you have air, glide away from the city." She continued, "In a small way my responsibilities parallel yours; I cannot bargain concerning the safety of my crew and my craft. I hope that you will reconsider, as I have no stomach for dealing with the Russians-even though they have more to offer us in exchange. I still ask for safe-conduct but now must ask for a still third item in such a document: that all four of us be allowed to leave at will. You have my name. My second-in-command is Doctor D. T. Burroughs Carter, my chief pilot is Doctor Z. J. Carter, my copilot is Doctor Jacob Burroughs. You will have noticed surnames. Doctor Jacob is my husband; the other two are our daughter and her husband. I am Doctor Hilda Corners but I am much prouder of being Mrs. Jacob Burroughs-although at present I must use 'Captain Hilda Burroughs' since I am commanding. Sir, while dictating this I have made a decision. I will not make a second attempt to negotiate with Russians. We will wait thirty minutes in the warm hope of hearing from you....hen return to Earth, report to our own government, send a detailed complaint to the Tsar of All the Russias, and make a formal report of our attempt here to His Imperial Majesty. Signed Respectfully yours, H. C. Burroughs, Commanding. Leftenant, what are the full names and titles of the Governor General?"