Kane walked on to the plant. The hilltop where he had met the girl was deserted and he felt a vague disappointment.
The plant was hot without the air-conditioner, especially in the vicinity of the electronic roasters. The girls looked flushed and uncomfortable, but for the redhead who still wore her scanty sunsuit. The armed Vogarians looked incongruously out of place among the girls and were sweating profusely. Kane made a mental note to have them ordered into tropical uniforms.
He found Dalon prowling like a wolf among his guards.
"It's inconceivable that these women could ever be a menace," Dalon said, "but I'm taking no chances."
He saw Graver, the cruiser's Chief Technician; a thin, dry man who seemed to be as emotionless as the machines and electronic circuits that were his life.
"They're doing everything with astonishing competence," Graver said. "My technicians are watching like hawks, though."
Larue was not in his office. His secretary, a brown-eyed woman of strikingly intelligent appearance, said, "I'm sorry, sir—Dr. Larue had to go back to town for a few minutes. May I give him your message?"
"No, thanks," he said. "Father Brenn is probably performing that unpleasant chore right now."
Since Dalon and Graver seemed to have the situation at the plant well in hand, Kane decided to make a tour of the outer provinces where the ores were being mined. An efficient plant would be worthless if it did not receive sufficient ore.