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When she was cradled and secure, he grunted his satisfaction and turned to leave. At the door he suddenly paused. "By the way, isn't Manning on radar watch?" "Yes, sir," replied Tom. "Well, it's one forty-eight. How about his standard check-in with traffic control?" Tom stammered, "He uh he may be plotting some space junk, sir." "He still must report, regardless of what he's doing!"
The buildings turned out to be a few single-story administrative shacks clustered around a check-in point. A uniformed guard waved them into a parking lot and told them to report to Security for badges. They walked into the building marked "Security Office, Badge Division" and found a counter with another guard behind it.
"I uh ah yes, sir!" gulped Tom. Blast Roger anyway, he thought, forgetting the all-important quarter-hour check-in. "I'd better go up and find out if anything's wrong," said Connel. "Gosh, sir," suggested Tom, desperately seeking an excuse for his shipmate. "I'm sure Roger would have notified us if anything had happened." "Knowing Manning as I do, I'm not so sure!"
It was just after they had left a small planet in the Procyon system, one of the routine check-in points, that they made contact with the Garvian trading ship. Dal recognized the ship's design and insignia even before the signals came in, and could hardly contain his excitement.
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