The Cargo Declarations mart at Areopolis spaceport was humming busily when I walked in. A moment later it was as quiet as a church and twice as attentive. The sudden hush that fell wasn't out of deference to me, though I'm pretty well known through the odd corners of the Solar System, but because of the Mimasan smiley I carried in a ten-inch tungsten wire cage under my arm. Nothing this side of Saturn's inner moon can lay down the euphoric aura of peace and brotherhood that a smiley can, and thi