 What was expressed as the time limit on Moynihan’s work?
But now, on Mercury, he was selling his guns into the weirdest of all his exploits—gambling his life against the soft touch of a woman's lips. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Summer 1945. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The song was a rollicking, ribald ditty, a favorite of the planters and miners, the space pilots and army officers who frequented the garden. He did not look up at the singer but kept his pale, immature face bent over the keys, while his fingers lightly, automatically picked out the tune. The pianist swung around on his stool, lifted his black eyes to the gate leading to the street. The revolution is scheduled to break during the Festival of the Rains. Jaro Moynahan wiped the sweat from his forehead with a fine duraweb handkerchief. "There is one man; he is the leader, the very soul of the revolution. The Mercurians worship him. Jaro Moynahan refilled their empty glasses. "Ah," said Jaro Moynahan; "so that's the way it is." One moment the garden was glowing in light, the next the hot black night swooped down on the revelers, pressing against their eyes like dark wool. Jaro Moynahan slipped sideways from the table. Across the table from Jaro there was the feel of movement; he could sense it.
 Before the The Festival of the Rains
 Before Karfial Hodes’ capture  Before the Earth Congress votes on Mercurian independence  Before the The Festival of the Rains  Before Moynihan’s return to Mars