Steve found himself answering slowly, instead of snapping out a reply. "Just what do you hope to gain from this?"
"I've gained it," smiled Wrightwood. "I've recordings of this entire meeting, and the tone of your voice during what you have to say is sufficient evidence to prove my point: that the Guardians have been wasting the taxpayers' money by ordering an impossible investigation by a valued man for the spite they hold against his father."
"I might have expected something like this. You've got no news of the Astarte."
"Yes—I have. Play along with me until I control the Guardians and I'll see to it that your position is granted back to you. There's no need of investigating the Astarte anyway; and your Commissioner Morehouse is going to eat crow before he's finished."
"Bah!" growled Steve. Once more he turned and left his father's presence abruptly.
He was whisked back to his waiting ship and he took off as fast as he could. It was no more than a fifty minute run across the star trails to Base One, and Steve was going to make it as fast as he could.
But ten minutes out of Sanaron, the alarm whispered and then broke into full clamor.
No danger alarm, this. This was the real thing!
Steve swapped his ship around in space and headed for the spacial co-ordinates given in the alarm. In his mind's eye he could see the men tumbling out of their quarters and into the waiting Guardian ships and hurtling into the black.