Wheeler handed over the space-o-gram and V.R. muttered through the message:
Dear Sir:
I'm sure you made a mistake filling my order. You've got to come pick up your shipment right away. We're up to our ears and it's shaking us to pieces.
Yours in disappointment,
Ogarm Netath,
Prime Minister
Growling, V.R. dropped an effervescent pill into a glass of water. "You can't get anywhere with these back-planet bumpkins. I doubt that this Netath ever had a bath. Send him a Supplementary Manual of Operating Instructions."
Wheeler started for the door.
But V.R. called after him. "And bill the prime minister for that article. It'll teach him to show a little bit of appreciation."
Titus winced before the persistent tremors that came through the floor of his cellar. He made another adjustment on the gravity control deflecting the planetoid's center of pseudomass another few feet. The ground beneath him finally quieted.
"Three days," he mumbled, dragging himself up the stairs.