"Should I wait here?" the pilot asked.
"Yes," Walton said. With accession to the permanent directorship he rated a private ship and a live pilot. "I won't be here long."
He left the landing stage and stepped within an indicated screener field. There was a long pause. The air up here, Walton thought, is fresh and clean, not like city air.
A voice said, "What is your business here?"
"I'm Walton, director of Popeek. I have an appointment with Security Head Martinez."
"Wait a moment, Director Walton."
None of the obsequious sirring and pleasing Walton had grown accustomed to. In its way, the bluntness of address was as refreshing as the unpolluted air.
Walton's keen ears detected a gentle electronic whirr; he was being thoroughly scanned. After a moment the metal door before him rose silently into a hidden slot, and he found himself facing an inner door of burnished copper.
A screen was set in the inner door.
Martinez' face confronted him.