Rack looked up expressionlessly as the five men approached. "Yes?"
Cudyk said, "We have been chosen to ask you some questions about your previous statement."
"Ask away," said Rack, leaning back in his chair. Before him was a glass of the dark, smoky liquor Ferguson imported for his special use. He was smoking a tremendously long, black Russian cigarette.
Cudyk took the list from Paz and read the first question. "What is the status of New Earth as to housing, utilities and so on?"
"Housing and utilities are adequate for the present population," said Rack indifferently. "More units will be built as needed."
Paz scribbled in his notebook. Cudyk read, "Will every new colonist be expected to serve as a member of New Earth's fighting forces?"
Rack said, "Every man will work where he's needed. Common sense ought to tell you that middle-aged men with pot bellies and no military training won't be asked to man battleships."
"What is the size of New Earth's navy?"
"Next question."
"Will new colonists be allowed to retain their personal fortunes?"