"I don't know." Cal leaned back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "Maybe we'll find out in Dome City."
"Maybe," Dave repeated hollowly.
The president of the planet greeted their ship in Dome City. There were more parades, banners, bands, banquets, reporters, cameras, confetti, women, speeches, presentations.
And at last, they stood before the President's desk, two bodyguards standing on either side of him. He was a thin man, slightly balding, with rimless glasses.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I don't have to tell you how pleased I am."
Cal took a deep breath. "We've been trying to tell Mayor Panley," he said, "that we are not Galus and Dale."
The President smiled. "I know. He told me of your little joke."
"It's not a joke."
The President cocked an eyebrow. "No?" He looked at his bodyguards. "Has space affec ... did you feel any ill effects in space?" he asked.