By the bland satisfaction to be read on the three faces below the I-S men were assured of their victory.  The Solar Queen would be paid off with a pittance, under the vague threat of Company retaliation she would up-ship from Sargol, and they would be left in possession of the rich Koros trade—­to be commended and rewarded by their superiors.  Had they, Dane speculated, ever had any dealings with Free Traders before—­at least with the brand of independent adventurers such as manned the Solar Queen?

Van Rycke burrowed in his belt pouch and then held out his hand.  On the broad palm lay a flat disc of metal.  “Very interesting—­” he repeated.  “I shall treasure this recording—­”

The sight of that disc wiped all satisfaction from the Eysie faces.  Grange’s purplish flush spread up from his tight tunic collar, Kallee blinked, and the unknown third’s hand dropped to his sleep rod.  An action which was not overlooked by either Dane or Ali.

“A smooth set down to you,” Jellico gave the conventional leave taking of the Service.

“You’d better—­” the Eysie Captain began hotly, and then seeing the disc Van Rycke held—­that sensitive bit of metal and plastic which was recording this interview for future reference, he shut his mouth tight.

“Yes?” the Queen’s Cargo-master prompted politely.  But Kallee had taken his Captain’s arm and was urging Grange away from the spacer.

“You have until noon to lift,” was Jellico’s parting shot as the three in Company livery started toward the road.

“I don’t think that they will,” he added to Van Rycke.

The Cargo-master nodded.  “You wouldn’t in their place,” he pointed out reasonably.  “On the other hand they’ve had a bit of a blast they weren’t expecting.  It’s been a long time since Grange heard anyone say ‘no.’”

“A shock which is going to wear off,” Jellico’s habitual distrust of the future gathered force.

“This,” Van Rycke tucked the disc back into his pouch, “sent them off vector a parsec or two.  Grange is not one of the strong arm blaster boys.  Suppose Tang Ya does a little listening in—­and maybe we can rig another surprise if Grange does try to ask advice of someone off world.  In the meantime I don’t think they are going to meddle with the Salariki.  They don’t want to have to answer awkward questions if we turn up a Patrol ship to ask them.  So—­” he stretched and beckoned to Dane, “we shall go to work once more.”

Again two paces behind Van Rycke Dane tramped to the trade circle of the Salariki clansmen.  They might have walked out only five or six minutes of ship time before, and the natives betrayed no particular interest in their return.  But, Dane noted, there was only one empty stool, one ceremonial table in evidence.  The Salariki had expected only one Terran Trader to join them.