His holdings in Terran Electric was all that stood between him and ruin. He was no better off than Murdoch, save that he was not wanted.
But—
"I'm going to remain on Terra and run Terran Electric like a model company," he said. "That'll be our base."
"Right. Except for a bit of research along specified lines, you will do nothing. Your job will be to act apologetic for your misdeeds. You will grovel on the floor before any authority, and beseech the legal profession to accept you once more. I will need your help, there. You are to establish yourself in the good graces of the Interplanetary Patent Office and report to me any applications that may be of interest. The research that Terran Electric will conduct will be along innocuous lines. The real research will be conducted in a secret laboratory. The one in the Melanortis Country. Selected men will work there, and the Terran Electric fleet of cargo-carriers will carry the material needed. My main failure was not to have provided a means of knowing what the worlds were doing. I'll have that now, and I shall not be defeated again."
"We'll say that one together!" said Kingman. He flipped open a large book and set the autopilot from a set of figures. The Black Widow turned gently and started to run for Terra at 2-G.
Walt Franks frowned at the memorandum in his hand. "Look, Don, are we ever going to get to work on that deal with Keg Johnson?"
"Uh-huh," answered Don, without looking up.
"He's serious. Transplanet is getting the edge, and he doesn't like it."
"Frankly, I don't like dabbling in stuff like that either. But Keg's an old friend, and I suppose that's how a guy gets all glommed up on projects, big business deals, and so forth. We'll be going in directly. Why the rush?"