 What was the number that Betty called?
The glowing semi-disk of Jupiter was more than half a million miles distant. It had been built for Ganymede, but not for Jeffers. Tolliver began to have his doubts the next day; which was "Tuesday" by the arbitrary calender constructed to match Ganymede's week-long journey around Jupiter. On the bulletin board, Tolliver's name stood out beside the number of one of the airtight tractors used between the dome city and the spaceport, or for hauling cross-country to one of the mining domes. He soon found that there was nothing for him to do but hang around the garage in case a spaceship should land. Sometimes there's no reason but them for sending a ship back with a crew instead of in an economy orbit. Under a portable, double-chambered plastic dome blown up outside the ship's airlock, a crewman helped him load two trunks and a collection of bags into the tractor. Trying already to be just one of the gang, instead of Lady Betty! Is her old man the treasurer, or does he just know where bodies are buried? They found they could send back loaded ships by 'automatic' flight—that is, a long, slow, economical orbit and automatic signalling equipment. He enlarged upon other dangers to be encountered on the satellite, taking care to impress the newcomer with the daredeviltry of John Tolliver, driver of "missions" across the menacing wastes between dome and port. "I'm retiring in six months if I'm still alive," he said bravely, edging the tractor into the airlock at their destination. His charge seemed noticeably subdued, but cleared her throat to request that Tolliver guide her to the office of the manager. "Jeffers," he announced, "this is ... just call her Betty." Yes, indeed! Mr. Koslow—the president, that is: your father—sent a message about you. The pilot stared at Betty, trying to recall pictures he had seen of the elder Koslow. "Daddy gave me the title of tenth vice-president mostly as a joke, when he told me to find out what was wrong with operations on Ganymede. He stared unbelievingly at Betty, and Tolliver thought he muttered something about "just landed." Tolliver, hardly thinking about it, expected the someone to be a secretary, but it turned out to be three members of Jeffers' headquarters staff. He recognized one as Rawlins, a warehouse chief, and guessed that the other two might be his assistants.
 To her Space Patrol colleagues
 To her Space Patrol colleagues  To the family’s private security team  To the Ganymede superiors  To Daddy’s private office at Koslow Space headquarters