Saturn Inn bulged. Every room was crowded, with half a dozen to the
cubicle, sleeping in relays. Those who couldn't find anywhere else to
sleep spread blankets in the narrow corridors or dozed off in chairs or
slept on the barroom floor. A few of them got stepped on.
Titan City's Junior Chamber of Commerce had done what it could to help
the situation out, but the notice had been short. A half-dozen nearby
rocks which had been hastily leveled off for parking space, now were
jammed with hundreds of space vehicles, ranging from the nifty two man
job owned by Billy Jones, sports editor of the _Daily Rocket_, to the
huge excursion liners sent out by the three big transport companies.
A few hastily-erected shelters helped out to some extent, but none of
these shelters had a bar and were mostly untenanted.
Moe, the bartender at the Inn, harried with too many customers, droopy
with lack of sleep, saw Oliver Meek bobbing around in the crowd that
surged against the bar, much after the manner of a cork caught in a
raging whirlpool. He reached out a hand and dragged Meek against the
bar.
"Can't you do something to stop it?"