 Why was Baker hesitant to send his employees on an enforced vacation?
DOUBLE TROUBLE by CARL JACOBI Grannie Annie, that waspish science-fiction writer, was in a jam again. What with red-spot fever, talking cockatoos and flagpole trees, I was running in circles—especially since Grannie became twins every now and then. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] We had left the offices of Interstellar Voice three days ago, Earth time, and now as the immense disc of Jupiter flamed across the sky, entered the outer limits of the Baldric. Grannie Annie strode in the lead, her absurd long-skirted black dress looking as out of place in this desert as the trees. Everything else was blanketed by the sand and the powerful wind that blew from all quarters. If my calculations are right, we've hit it at its narrowest spot." He could be excused this time, however, for this was only our third day on Jupiter's Eighth Moon, and the country was still strange to us. If you haven't read her books, you've missed something. Blood-and-thunder as these books are, however, they have one redeeming feature—authenticity of background. Grannie Annie was the original research digger-upper, and when she laid the setting of a yarn on a star of the sixth magnitude, only a transportation-velocity of less than light could prevent her from visiting her "stage" in person. He was an old prospector Grannie had met, and he had become so attached to the authoress he now followed her wherever she went. As for Xartal, he was a Martian and was slated to do the illustrations for Grannie's new book. Five minutes after my ship had blasted down, the four of us met in the offices of Interstellar Voice . And then I was shaking hands with Antlers Park, the manager of I. V. himself. Antlers Park flicked the ash from his cheroot and shrugged. It's no use to the people of Earth but of untold value on Mars. Then it was found that this ore, Acoustix, revitalized their sounding apparatus, and the rush was on." So now here we were at the outer reaches of the Baldric, four travelers on foot with only the barest necessities in the way of equipment and supplies. Xartal, the Martian illustrator, already had a notebook in his hands and was sketching a likeness of the creature. Above us, the great disc of Jupiter began to descend toward the horizon. And then all at once Grannie stopped again, this time at the top of a high ridge.
 He feared they would lose chartered rights with Spacolonial
 He feared they would have too much difficulty getting the employees back to work.  He feared that would not stop the plague of Red Spot Fever.  He feared they would lose chartered rights with Spacolonial  He feared their work would suffer from the break.