that wear them. To change them would be both foolish and unethical."

It was a good thing, Miss Featherpenny thought, that Andy was feeling better today. She went into his office, padding softly over the carpet to his contemporary prestwood desk.

"Good morning, Edie," Andy said cheerfully. "What happened? Lightning strike you?"

"Practically," Miss Featherpenny said. "It's Felix II again." She handed over the sheaf of papers.

"Why didn't you tell me about this yesterday?" Andy muttered, reading them.

"I thought I could handle it." Miss Featherpenny made a face. "Until I got that answer this morning."

"It sounds like typical Felician thinking," Andy said. "There's no sense trying to argue by mail." He sighed. "You'd better reserve a first-class passage for me on the first ship out."

"Can't I go?" Miss Featherpenny asked.

"Who'd run the office?"

"The stenos can stack stuff until we get back." Miss Featherpenny looked wistful. "I was in on the beginning of it. I want to see it through. Besides, I'd like to see Hrom again."

"Oh, all right," Andy agreed. "Make it two first class."

Blahrog was waiting on the long porch of the space port dining room.

"Have a nice trip?" he asked.

"What's all this about not changing the shoe styles?" Andy countered.

"As I told you in the message," Blahrog said impatiently, "We make our shoes in the best possible shapes for the feet that will wear them. There isn't any good reason to change them."

"You can't sell people two pairs of identical shoes," Andy insisted.

"You might be able to sell them if you changed them," Miss Featherpenny added, sounding reasonable.

"Save your arguments for the Everking," Blahrog said. "Come on to the car."

"Car?" Miss Featherpenny exclaimed. "The Everking's?"

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