"Right on, Zach. You have quite a musical record."

"You betcha. I worked my way through college playing in the band. Still do a gig or two from time to time."

"Then you have the job. You must now sally forth with an open checkbook and buy the best, most expensive and complex hunks of electronic music making that you can find. And they have to be the most compact and microminiaturized ones going. Bring them back and I'll make it all smaller since everything we bring with us has to be carried on our backs. If you. can't find it on this planet use galactic mail order. Spend! The more you spend the better."

His eyes glowed with musical fervor. "Do you mean that?"

"Absolutely. Check with Admiral Benbow who will authorize all expenses. Go!"

He went, and the auditions began. I draw a veil over the more repulsive details of the next two days. Apparently musical ability and military service were mutually incompatible for the most part. I whittled away and the list grew smaller with great rapidity. I had hoped for a large band — now it appeared that I had a tiny combo.

"This is it, Admiral," I said, passing over the abbreviated list. "We will have to make up in quality what we lack in quantity. It is going to be me and these three others."

He frowned. "Will it be enough?"

"Going to have to be. The discards may be great operators but I will dream about their sounds for years. In my nightmares. So take the survivors aside, tell them about me and the assignment. I'll meet them after lunch in the audition room."

I was setting glasses and bottles of refreshment on the table when the four of them trooped in. In step!

"First lesson!" I shouted. "Think civilian. Anything that even resembles the military will get us all quickly dead. Now have you all talked to the Admiral? Everyone is nodding, good, good. Nod again if you agree to take orders from me and no one else. Even better. Now I will introduce you to each other.