Sure, there had to be law and order out on the Rim—­and doubly sure it had to cover and protect life on the softer planets of the inner systems.  He wasn’t denying that on Limbo, he, for one, had been very glad to see the Patrol blast their way into the headquarters of the pirates holed up on that half-dead world.  And he was never contemptuous of the men in the field.  But like all Free Traders he was influenced by a belief that too often the laws as enforced by the Patrol favored the wealth and might of the Companies, that law could be twisted and the Patrol sent to push through actions which, though legal, were inherently unfair to those who had not the funds to fight it out in the far off Council courts.  Just as now he was certain that the Eysies were bringing all the influence they had to bear here against the Queen’s men.  And Inter-Solar had a lot of influence.

At the end of their ordeal their statements were read back to them from the recording tape and they thumb signed them.  Were these statements or confessions, Dane mused.  Perhaps in their honest reports they had just signed their way into the moon mines.  Only there was no move to lead them out and book them.  And when Weeks pressed his thumb at the bottom of the tape, Captain Jellico took a hand.  He looked at his watch.

“It is now ten hours,” he observed.  “My men need rest, and we all want food.  Are you through with us?”

The Commander was spokesman for the other group.  “You are to remain in quarantine, Captain.  Your ship has not yet been passed as port-free.  But you will be assigned quarters—­”

Once again they were marched through blank halls to the other section of the sprawling Patrol Headquarters.  No windows looked upon the outer world, but there were bunks and a small mess alcove.  Ali, Dane, and Rip turned in, more interested in sleep than food.  And the last thing the Cargo-apprentice remembered was seeing Jellico talking earnestly with Steen Wilcox as they both sipped steaming mugs of real Terran coffee.

But with twelve hours of sleep behind them the three were less contented in confinement.  No one had come near them and Van Rycke had not returned.  Which fact the crew clung to as a ray of hope.  Somewhere the Cargo-master must be fighting their battle.  And all Van’s vast store of Trade knowledge, all his knack of cutting corners and driving a shrewd bargain, enlisted on their behalf, must win them some concessions.

Medic Tau came in, bringing Hovan with him.  Both looked tired but triumphant.  And their report was a shot in the arm for the now uneasy Traders.

“We’ve rammed it down their throats,” Tau announced.  “They’re willing to admit that it was those poison bugs and not a plague.  Incidentally,” he grinned at Jellico and then looked around expectantly, “where’s Van?  This comes in his department.  We’re going to cash in on those the kids dumped in the deep freeze.  Terra-Lab is bidding on them.  I said to see Van—­he can arrange the best deal for us.  Where is he?”