“Oh? But a quick smash-bash, a few beings seized from here and there, and a rapid interrogation should give us all we need.”

"Half-captain, I feel I should advise you that I do not think it would yield fruit. I have been collecting information for some time now and have here anything you would get. I can transmit it over to you, whatever I happen to have.”

“That would be very thoughtful of you, Your Excellency. But why not a quick smash-bash minor raid? I detect some thoughts on this.”

“Well, as a matter of fact,” said the small gray man, “you do detect some reservations and it is very acute of you. It might be important to stand off and wait.”

“Do you think they're the ones?” asked Snowl. “My dear fellow,” said the small gray man, “I believe there are three hundred different planetary suspects.”

“Three hundred two, I think,” said Snowl. “At least that is the rumored figure.

“We cannot tell you that this is the one,” said the small gray man, “and I can't give you comparative evidence about other planets and systems for I am, of course, concerned with simply this sector, as you are. But it is my belief, based on very thin evidence, that this just could be the one.”

“Oh, I say!” said the Tolnep. “That's promising!”

“We are not in a position to adjudicate at this time. But it could be that a raid by you might disturb what appears to be a very critical political situation down there and possibly disturb it to our disfavor.”

“You're advising us to wait, then,” said the Tolnep.

“Well, yes,” said the small gray man. “I will send you across any file data I have been collecting and I think you will reach the same conclusion.”

“It’s difficult,” said the Tolnep. “No raids, no prize money is our position. But we do have this other strategic thing.

“Yes, and we should not make any tactical move that might upset it.”

“Ah,” said the Tolnep. Then, “How long would you think we should delay? Days, months, years?”

“Months, I should think.”

The Tolnep sighed. Then brightened and smiled– a Tolnep smile was a bit frightening since their fangs were poison-'All right, Your Excellency. It is very courteous of you to offer the information and I shall be very happy to review it. By the way, can we offer you escort and protection? I should think a Hockner ship might show up and they are quite nasty, you know.”

“I do thank you, half-captain," said the small gray man wearily, “but as you know, we have no quarrel, ourselves, with the Hockners."

“No, of course not,” said the Tolnep.

“Any supplies, anything like that we can provide?”

“Thank you, not just now. Possibly later. Your courtesy is always appreciated.”

“We're already in your debt,” said the Tolnep and laughed. “Come across for some tea sometime.” He clicked off.

The very thought of more tea made the small gray man's stomach hurt.

He reached for another indigestion pill. All things considered, this really was the worst hard-core problem that had ever come to his desk.

The indigestion pill was about to take effect when he suddenly realized that the Bolbods, the Hawvins, and who knows who else might show up. He hoped they wouldn't quarrel with one another. In the situation he was in, it took months now to get proper reports home and months to hear anything. He felt very much on his own.

He looked out the port again at the gun-bristling monster of a war vessel, flashing along beside them in the glaring sunlight. Tough beings, the Tolneps. But really not much worse than Bolbods or Hockners.

He glanced down at the planet face below them. Was it really the one? If it were, in one way it would be a relief.

But if it were, what violence could go shooting down at it!

His sigh was very deep.

Terl was purring. He was moving into his office today!

There had been a few bad moments. This morning he had sent Lars into it to make sure it was not booby-trapped– better Lars blew up than he.

The compound in general had been in a bit of a turmoil. General Snith had come down and commandeered all the dead bodies of the slaughtered commando and had had a fight with a couple of his officers, apparently concerning mess table allocations. But Snith had resolved all that. There were twenty-eight bodies, eighteen active commandos. So he had hit on the masterful solution of one body to be issued to each commando, two to the officer's mess, six to the women and children, and two to his own table. So that had died down.

The thirteenth commando had cleaned the place up and the fifth commando had taken over the duty, all very smooth and military. They were all very polite to Terl and so it was obvious they knew who their boss was.

But right after things had smoothed out, Lars came screaming back to the cage to tell Terl that the place was booby-trapped. Worse, he didn't have a clue how to disarm a booby trap.

Knowing he had better not let any of these Brigantes loose in the place-they'd stink it up and maybe blow it up-Terl himself had had to go in to handle the trap.

It was right inside the kneehole of the desk. Knowing that one booby trap could have another under it to explode when the top one was removed, he had taken a lot of care to remove it.

When he had disarmed it, he was about to throw it out when he saw that it had hairs stuck in it. They were gray Psychlo wrist hairs! Ker's fur was orange. And somebody had broken a claw tip while pushing the plastic explosive down around the edges: it was too big a tip for it to be Ker's.

On hearing about this booby trap the first time, Terl had supposed it would be the animal's doings. According to what he had learned, the animal had remained behind after the other two left and probably had planted this trap.

The fact that the animal had not come up and killed him too when the animal had wiped out this commando had troubled Terl. This was the second or third time the animal had had a chance to kill him but had not done so. Eerie. Unnatural. So he had figured out that the animal, having planted this booby trap, thought it was all cared for.

These bits of fur and the claw tip changed that. Once more, the animal had not killed him or tried to. Very abnormal behavior. Terl finally came to a conclusion, however. The animal had been so beaten about by Terl that the animal was afraid of him. That was the right answer!

Terl was comfortable with this until he realized that it was the Psychlos down

In the lower dormitory who had sneaked up here and planted the trap.

Instantly he demanded their slaughter. He didn't want them around anyway. But Lars had come back and said that that very morning all thirty-three of them had been removed under cadet guard and had been shipped overseas– and here was the requisition for goo-food, kerbango, breathe-gas, etc., to prove it. So Terl got over his fright and began to collect the odd bits such as the dictionary and extra breathe-gas vials from the cage, walked out of it forever, and went back to his office.

What a relief to be out of the sun and air of this accursed planet!

He locked the door and turned on the breathe-gas circulator and soon he could take off his mask. What a relief to have a mask off.

Terl looked around. Some things had been moved out. No drone recorders. Who wanted them? No radio links. So what? Compound intercoms all dead. Who cared?

But the place was all set up to work. He thought one table was out of position and sought to move it and found it was welded down. Even welded down with an armor weld! Ho, ho! Somebody wanted that table in exactly that place! Ah, ha! That was why the animal remained behind. The place was bugged!

They hadn't moved his clothes out. Later, he would dress and become civilized again. But just now he wanted his green dress boots. There they were. They even had dust on the floor around them and hadn't been moved an inch. He turned the right boot upside-down, twisted the heel, and the cabinet keys fell out.