The phone-plate lighted. Sandringham snapped it on. A voice made a report in a highly official voice.
"Right!" said Sandringham. The highly official voice spoke again. "Right!" said Sandringham again. "You may tell the ships in orbit that they can come down now, if they don't mind getting wet." He turned. "Did you hear that, Hardwick? They have bored new cores. There are a few soggy spots, but the ground's as firm, all over the island, as it was when the Survey first came here. A very good job, Hardwick! A very good job!"
Hardwick flushed. He reached down and patted the head of the brown dog.
"Look!" said the Sector Chief. "My dog, there, has taken a liking to you. Will you accept him as a present, Hardwick?"
Hardwick grinned.
Young Barnes made ready to rejoin his ship. He was very strictly Service, very stiffly at attention. Hardwick shook hands with him.
"Nice to have had you around, lieutenant," he said warmly. "You're a very promising young officer. Sandringham knows it and has made a note of the fact. Which I suspect is going to put you to a lot of trouble. There's a devilish shortage of promising young officers. He'll give you hellish jobs to do, because he has an idea you'll do them."
"I'll try, sir," said young Barnes formally. Then he said awkwardly, "May I say something, sir? I'm very proud, sir, to have worked with you. But dammit, sir, it seems to me that something more than just saying thank you was due you! The Service, sir, ought to—"
Hardwick regarded the young man approvingly.