"O.K., Orne, pay attention." Stetson gestured at the map with its green
superimposed grid squares. "Here we are. Here's that city we flew over
on our way down. You'll head for it as soon as we drop you. The place is
big enough that if you hold a course roughly northeast you can't miss
it. We're--"
Again the call bell rang.
"What is it this time, Hal?" barked Stetson.
"They've changed to Plan H, Stet. New orders cut."
"Five days?"
"That's all they can give us. ComGO says he can't keep the information
out of High Commissioner Bullone's hands any longer than that."
"It's five days for sure then."
"Is this the usual R&R foul-up?" asked Orne.
Stetson nodded. "Thanks to Bullone and company! We're just one jump
ahead of catastrophe, but they still pump the bushwah into the Rah & Rah
boys back at dear old Uni-Galacta!"
"You're making light of my revered alma mater," said Orne. He struck a
pose. "We must reunite the lost planets with our centers of culture and
industry, and take up the _glor_-ious onward march of mankind that was
so _bru_-tally--"
"Can it!" snapped Stetson. "We both know we're going to rediscover one
planet too many some day. Rim War all over again. But this is a
different breed of fish. It's not, repeat, _not_ a _re_-discovery."