"We'll get your anodes set," said Hadley.
Walt Franks grinned at Arden Channing. "That'll burn him," he assured her.
"It's been on the way for about twenty minutes," laughed Arden. "I timed it to arrive at Terra at the same time the Ariadne does. They'll send out a special messenger with it, just as Don is getting aboard his little scooter. It'll be the last word, for we're not following him from Terra to here."
"You know what you've started?" asked Franks.
"Nothing more than a little feud between husband and self."
"That's just the start. Before he gets done, Don will have every ship capable of answering back. I've found that you can catch him off base just once. He's a genius—one of those men who never make the same mistake twice. He'll never again be in a position to be on the listening end only."
"Don's answer should be on the way back by now," said Arden. "Could be you're right. Something should be done."
"Sure I'm right. Look at all the time that's wasted in waiting for a landing to answer 'grams. In this day and age, time is money, squared. The latter is to differentiate between this time and the first glimmering of speedy living."
"Was there a first glimmering?" asked Arden sagely. "I've often thought that the speed-up was a stable acceleration from the dawn of time to the present."