The loud-speaker said tinnily:
"Calling boat from landing-grid! Calling boat from landing-grid!"
"Come in," said Barnes, looking uneasily at Bordman.
"Correct your course!" commanded the voice. "You are not to land on rockets under any circumstances! This is an order from the Sector Chief himself. Stand off! We will be ready to lock on and land you gently in about fifteen minutes. But meanwhile stand off!"
"Yes, sir," said young Barnes.
Bordman reached over and took the microphone.
"Bordman speaking," he said. "I'd like information. What's the trouble down there that we can't use our rockets?"
"Rockets are noisy, sir. Even boat-rockets. We have orders to eliminate all physical vibration possible, sir. But I am ordered not to give details on a transmitter, sir."
"I sign off," said Bordman, drily.
He pushed the microphone away. He deplored his own lack of aggressiveness. Werner, now, would have pulled his rank and insisted on being informed. But Bordman couldn't help believing that there was a reason for orders that overruled his own.