When he reached the edge of atmosphere, he threw the ship into magnidrive for the ten-minute run to Rigil Kentaurus.

At exactly three-thirty Manning Draco was in the Planet Department building, being shown into the office of the Secretary.

At forty-one, J. Barnaby Cruikshank was one of the most successful men in the Galaxy. He had originally inherited the Greater Solarian Insurance Company from his grandfather, but it had been a small company barely making a profit. J. Barnaby had built it up until its assets were somewhere around one and a half trillion credits.[1] He had been very active in galactic politics, and much of his success was due to that, but this was the first time he'd been given active participation in the government.

[1] And a very nice place it is to be around, too.

J. Barnaby had always operated on the theory that chaos was just around the corner. Those who worked for Greater Solarian—as Manning had until only a few months before—were accustomed to J. Barnaby's looking as though the corner had finally been rounded. So the rumpled appearance of the new Secretary of Planets had no effect on Manning.

As he entered the office, he caught a glimpse of another man leaving by a side door. He was a Vegan, his skin the clear green of old jade. The weave of his light plastic suit indicated that he was a high-caste Vegan.

"Who was that?" Manning asked.

"Jimwe Gnade. Harris is being made an ambassador and the Vegan is going to be the new candidate for vice president."

"Great Fomalhaut," exclaimed Manning. "Now we're even going to have political candidates who contain chlorophyll."

"Very funny," grunted J. Barnaby. "How's Vega and little Barnaby?"

"How do you expect them to feel, losing husband and father just so you can make a big man out of yourself?"

"You've decided to do the job?" J. Barnaby asked, ignoring the remark.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not much," J. Barnaby said with a familiar grin. "The penalty for refusing a government draft is five years."

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