“You see, Chamco,” said Terl, “I can keep this file open, but in a safe place where it can be found if anything happens to either of us. It can be activated at any time. And would be activated if further offenses occurred.” His voice took on a pleading tone. "Zzt has been a valuable fellow in the past. As a favor to me, lay aside your revenge and let it lie.”

The Chamco was thoughtful, his bloodlust cooling.

Terl glanced at Zzt and saw no attack signals. He put out his paw to the Chamco. “Give me the rifle.” The Chamco did and Terl put on the safety slide. “Thank you,” said Terl. “The company is indebted to you. You can go back to work.”

The Chamco smiled. This Terl was sure a fair and efficient Psychlo. “I sure appreciate your getting my money back,” said the Chamco and left.

Terl turned off the camera he had put on the wall and restored it to his pocket. Then he picked up the things on the bench and made them into a neat package.

Zzt was standing there restraining the tremble that threatened to engulf him. The aura of death had gripped him all too nearly. Stark terror flared in his eyes as he looked at Terl. He was not seeing Terl. He was seeing the most diabolical devil ever drawn in the mythology of the Psychlos.

“All right?” said Terl quietly. Zzt sank slowly down on a bench.

Terl waited a bit but Zzt didn't move. “Now to business,” said Terl. “I want certain things assigned to my department. A Mark III ground car, executive. Two battle planes, unlimited range. Three personnel freighters. And fuel and ammunition without inventory. And a few other things. In fact, I just happen to have the requisitions right here for you to sign. Oh, yes, there are some blank ones, too. All right?”

Zzt did not resist the pen as it was pushed between his claws. The thick sheaf of requisitions was slipped onto his knee. Lifelessly he began to sign each one.

That night a very cheerful Terl, who said he felt lucky even though a bit drunk, won all six hundred fifty credits back from the smaller Chamco brother in a very narrowly contested game of rings.

Terl even bought kerbango for the whole crowd out of his winnings as a good– night gesture. They cheered him when he happily rumbled off to a well-earned sleep.

He dreamed beautiful dreams wherein leverage made him wealthy, crowned him king, and got him far away from this accursed planet.

Jonnie laid down his book and stood, stretching. There was more than a smell of spring in the air. The snow had run off and only lingered in shady places. The air was crystal, the sky a beautiful blue. There was a surging tension in his limbs and muscles. It was one thing to be cooped up in winter. It was quite another to sit in a cage in spring.

He saw what had distracted him a few moments before. Terl drove up to the cage gate in a long, sleekly gleaming, black tank. It purred quietly, hiding awesome power behind its gun muzzles and slitted ports.

Terl bounded out and the ground shook. He was very jovial. “Get your clothes on, animal. We're going for a drive.”

Jonnie was dressed in buckskin.

“No, no, no,” said Terl. “Clothes! Not hides. You'll stink up my new ground car. How do you like it?”

Jonnie was suddenly alert. Terl asking for opinion or admiration was not the Terl he knew. "I’m dressed,” said Jonnie.

Terl was unhooking the leash from the cage. “Oh, well. What's the difference? I can stand it if you can. Get your air mask. You'll be inside, and I am damned if I’ll drive around in one. Bring your clubs, too.”

Now Jonnie was alert. He put on a belt and a pouch with flints and the bits of glass for cutting. He put the thong of the kill-club over his wrist.

Terl checked the air bottles and playfully snapped the elastic of Jonnie's mask as he put it on him. “Now get in, animal. Get in. Some ground car, eh?”

Indeed it was, thought Jonnie, as the gunner's seat engulfed him. Blazing purple fabric, gleaming instrument panel, and shining control buttons.

“I checked her all out for remotes,” said Terl. He laughed and laughed at his joke as he climbed in. “You know what I’m refer ring to, rat brain. No over the cliff on fire today.” He hit a button and the doors closed and sealed. He turned on the breathe-gas louvers and the atmosphere changed in a blink. “Crap, were you stupid!” he laughed some more.

The ground car went hurtling toward the open, four feet above the earth, accelerating to two hundred miles per hour in a breath, almost breaking Jonnie's spine.

Terl unsnapped his face mask and threw it aside. “You see those doors? Don't ever hit a latch or try to open one when I’m not wearing a mask, animal. This thing would wreck with no driver.”

Jonnie looked at the latches and buttons and noted the information carefully. What a good idea.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Oh, just a drive, just a drive. Seeing the sights.”

Jonnie doubted that. He was watching every control action Terl was making. He could identify most of the levers and buttons already.

They sped north and then in a long curve headed south of west. Despite the blur of speed, Jonnie could see they were following some ancient, grass-overgrown highway. By the sun he marked their course.

Through the heavily plated gunner's slits he could see a mass of ancient buildings and a field. A high mountain lay beyond. A range lay to the west. The ground car slowed and drew up a distance from the largest building. Jonnie looked at the desolate scene of ruin.

Terl reached into the ground car bar and drew himself a small pan of kerbango. He drank it off and smacked his mouthbones and belched. Then he put on his face mask and hit the door button. “Well, get out, get out and see the sights.”

Jonnie shut off his air and removed his mask. Terl flipped the leash to give it length and Jonnie got out. He looked around. In a nearby field there were some mounds of what had been machines, perhaps. The structures before him were impressive. Near where they stood was a sort of trench, long overgrown, curving. The grass was tall and the wind from the mountains moaned lonesomely.

“What was this place?” said Jonnie.

Terl stood with his elbow braced against the top of the car, indolent, very casual. “Animal, you are looking at the primary defense base of this planet during the days of man.”

“Yes?” prompted Jonnie.

Terl reached into the car and brought out a Chinko guidebook and threw it at him. A page was marked. It said, “A short distance from the minesite lies an impressive military ruin. Thirteen days after the Psychlo attack, a handful of men stood off a Psychlo tank for over three hours, using primitive weapons. It was the last resistance that was overcome by the Psychlos." That was all it said.

Jonnie looked around.

Terl pointed at the curved trench. “It happened right here,” he said, with a sweep of his paw. “Look.” He dealt out more leash.

Jonnie crept over to the trench. It was hard to see where it began and ended. It had some stones in front of it. The grass was very tall, moving in the wind.

“Look good,” said Terl.

Jonnie moved down into the trench. And then he saw it. Although a great time had passed, there were scraps of metal that had been guns. And there were scraps of uniforms, mainly buried, hardly more than impressions.

Suddenly he was gripped by the vision of desperate men, fighting valiantly, hopelessly. He glanced across the field before the trench and could almost see the Psychlo tank coming on, withdrawing, coming on, battering them at last to death.

Jonnie's heart rose, swelled in his chest. Blood hammered in his ears.

Terl leaned indolently against the car. “Seen enough?”

“Why have you shown me this?”

Terl barked a laugh behind his mask. “So you won't get any ideas, animal. This was the number-one defense base of the planet. And just one measly Psychlo tank knocked it to bits in a wink. Got it?”