"I'd like to welcome you again to the Omaha Spaceport," he said. "We're happy that you're here, and we're sorry if you have suffered any inconveniences. As you can imagine, we're hardly equipped to entertain almost two hundred young ladies, but we're doing the best we can under the circumstances. We hope you'll put up with us for the three days of the contest, and you'll find it all worthwhile."
"He's cute!" said a voice in the rear, and the room broke with laughter. The captain really crimsoned now, and he looked sternly at the grinning messboys.
"Harumph!" he said loudly. "As I was saying, you'll only have to put up with us for three days, so it won't be too bad. If you need any sort of assistance, you need only call my office—the extension is thirty-three—and speak to a member of my staff. They'll be glad to help you with any problem which cannot be handled by the Matrons. Mail will be sent and received at my office, and if you wish to make any long-distance phone calls, my staff can assist you there, too. There are, of course, doctors on the field, in case any of you require medical attention."
"How about dates?" said a voice from the rear. This time, there was only a slight titter in the audience.
"I'm sorry about that," the captain smiled. "And if you think I'm sorry, you should see the long faces on the field personnel." He basked in their appreciative laugh. "I'm sure you all understand the reason for this restriction. Interplanetary travel is a civilian enterprise, of course, but subject to the same code as the armed forces. We're constantly under close scrutiny by the public—whether we're sending a new geological expedition to the outer planets, or staging a strict publicity venture, such as the Miss Outer Space contest."
He cleared his throat. "So you see," he said carefully, "we must keep the contest in a rather—respectable atmosphere. Harumph!" The girls tittered again.
"Now," he continued with a relieved sigh, "I'll tell you something about your agenda. You've all received copies, but some of the items may seem more demanding than they really are. As you know, we are not going to select Miss Outer Space on—shall we say, merely obvious qualities. This is not a beauty contest in the strict sense of the term. We want good-looking girls, of course," he said with a slight twinkle, "and you all fill that bill quite nicely. But we are also searching for other qualities which we believe Miss Outer Space should have. Intelligence—no, I don't mean we're looking for lady Einsteins," he said as a groan rippled through his audience. "I mean good common sense," he explained. "The ability to meet situations. Domestic know-how, too. The rudiments of keeping a decent home. Physical fitness. And something else, that I really can't define in a word. Character, I suppose, is as good as any."
He looked around the suddenly quiet room. "All these things will be explained to you more fully. I just wanted to let you know how grateful we are to you all for sticking by us as well as you have, and we hope you'll bear with us a few days more until the final judging is made. There'll be rewards for every one of you, I promise you that. No one will leave the spaceport disappointed, and one of you will leave with very rich rewards indeed. Thank you," he ended abruptly, and left the room quickly.