He spun open the screw-locks; ratcheted down the ladder.
More night. Silently, Ross slid to the ground.
Another moment, and Veta was beside him. Ross turned.
Simultaneously, light pinned him tight against the ladder. A smooth voice said, "My dear sir! Surely you wouldn't deny us the privilege of giving you a proper welcome!"
Ross could only blink and squint against the glare.
The voice from the darkness kept on talking: "You understand, of course, that Japetus has few visitors. At best, it's small and isolated. So, as adjudicator, I take it as my duty to show our little world's appreciation...."
Talk and more talk, mellow and meaningless.
Yet somehow, now, a strange note of uncertainty had crept into the speaker's voice. It was as if, suddenly, an initial planned strategy had been shattered, with the result that for the moment he must feel his way and play by ear.
Then, abruptly, that too changed.
"You men there!" the speaker cried, "where are your manners? Get those lights out of the gentleman's eyes! Or at least spread them so we all can see each other."