"Why not?"
"I'm going to retire," said Morgan blandly. "But I want to do something first that I can gloat over later."
"He wants," added Gwenlyn, "to repose in the satisfaction of his vanity." She laughed again at her father's expression.
"Seriously, Captain, we wanted to give you the letter and to ask you not to be surprised if we turn up somewhere. There's a Talent," she added, "a young boy who can find people. He doesn't know how he does it, but.... We'll find you!"
The ground-car turned in at the fleet's take-off ground. The normal interstellar traffic of a planet, of course, was handled by a spaceport, with ships brought down to ground and lifted out to space again by the force-fields generated in a giant landing-grid. But a war-fleet could not depend solely on ground installations. The fighting ships of Kandar were allowed to use the planet's spaceport only for special reasons. Emergency rocket take-offs and landings were necessary training for war conditions anyhow. So the take-off ground was pitted and scarred with burnt-over circles, where no living thing grew and where very often the clay beneath the humus top-layer was vitrified by rocket-flames.
A guard at the gate brought the ground-car to a halt.
"War alert," said Bors. "Only known officers and men admitted here. It's not worth arguing about."
He got out of the car and shook hands.
"I still regret," he told Morgan, "that we've had no chance to do something in return for the information you've given us." To Gwenlyn he said obscurely, "I'm glad I didn't know you sooner."
He turned and walked briskly into the fenced-off area. Behind him, Morgan looked inquisitively at his daughter.