of a spaceman motioned him to the inner room. "Go in, Lieutenant."

"Thank you." He hurried into the commander's room and stood at attention.

Commander Jennsen, the Norwegian spaceman who had commanded the platform
since before Rip's arrival as a raw cadet, was dictating into his command
relay circuit. As he spoke, printed copies were being received in the
platform personnel office, at Special Order Squadron headquarters on
Earth, aboard the cruiser _Bolide_ in high space, and aboard the newly
landed cruiser _Scorpius_.

Rip listened, spellbound.

"Foster, R.I.P., Lieutenant, SOS. Serial seven-nine-four-three. Assigned
SOS Four. Change orders, effective this date-time. Cancel Earth leave.
Subject officer will report to commander, SCN _Scorpius_, with detachment
of nine men. Senior noncommissioned officer and second in command, Koa,
A.P., Sergeant Major, SOS. Serial two-nine-four-one. Commander of
_Scorpius_ will transport detachment to coordinates given in basic
cruiser astro-course; deliver orders to detachment en route. Take
required steps for maximum security. This is Federation priority A,
Space Council security procedures."

Rip swallowed hard. The highest possible priority, given by the
Federation itself, had canceled his leave. Not only that, but the cruiser
to which he was assigned was instructed to follow Space Council security
procedures, which meant that the job, whatever it was, was more urgent
than secret!

Commander Jennsen looked up and saw Rip waiting. He snapped, "Did you get