"If I tell her, this deep, to play ball or else, do you think she'd need two treatments?"
"She certainly oughtn't to. This makes you Galactic Admiral, no question. I'd thought, of course, of trying you out for Top Gunther, but this settles that. We will support you, sir, wholeheartedly—and my heartfelt thanks for coming here."
"I have your permission, then, to give Fao a little discipline when she starts rocking the boat?"
"I wish you would, sir. I'm not too easy to get along with, I admit, but I've tried to meet her a lot more than half-way. She's just too damned cocky for anybody's good."
"Check. I wish somebody would come along who could knock hell out of Belle." Then, aloud, "Belle, Delcamp and I have the thing going. Do you want in on it?"
Delcamp spoke to Fao, and the two women slowly, reluctantly, lowered their shields to match those of the men.
"Your Galaxian shaking of the hands—handshake, I mean—is very good," Delcamp said, and he and Garlock shook vigorously.
Then the crossed pairs, and lastly the two girls—although neither put much effort into the gesture.
"Snap out of it, Belle!" Garlock sent a tight-beamed thought. "She isn't going to bite you!"
"She's been trying to, damn her, and I'm going to bite her right back—see if I don't."