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the speed of the answer that the Council of Mureesshad considered, if not anticipated this question. The second memberspoke, an obvious pre-assignment.

  "In all our long history, you are our first contact with startravelers. Yet we are not defenseless. The Great Mother contains notonly food, fish and plants which we harvest, but many strong andterrible beasts. Very few are left to disturb us. In addition, theimplications of your ship have not escaped us, and our scientists areeven now adapting some of our atomic devices used in mining to otherends." The voice contained a faint hint of pride as it ended. We gotguns, too, buddy, it said, and we ain't pushovers.

  The First of the Council spoke again. "Let me be plain, RespectedStar-farers. It seems obvious to us that you have learned most of whatwe represent as a council, if not all. We are the heads of the GreatClans and we will not change. It hardly seems likely that you representa society based on heredity if you include the diverse and namelessbreeds of creature you have shown us on your screens. We do not wantsuch an amalgam on our world causing unrest and disturbances of publicorder. Still less do we desire authoritarian interference with theordered life we have developed. Your requests are one and severallyrefused. There will be no 'observer.' Trade, regulated by us, will bewelcome. Otherwise, should you choose not to be bound by our laws, wemust respectfully and finally bid you farewell. When at some futuredate, we develop ships such as yours, we may reconsider." The speakerpaused, looked at his three confreres, who nodded silently. The Firststared arrogantly at Mazechazz, and continued.

  "Finally, we have decided to place a ban on further landings by aliensunless you are now prepared to negotiate a trade agreement on ourterms!"

  Powers thought frantically, his face motionless. This was defeat, starkand unequivocal. The parable he had in mind seemed indicated now ornever. He turned to Sakh Mazechazz, and spoke.

  "May I have your permission to address the Honored Council, NobleCaptain?" he asked.

  "Speak, First Officer," said the Lyran, his gular pouches throbbing.His ruby eyes, to his associate, looked pained, as well they might.

  "Let me pose a question, Honored Sirs," said Powers. "Suppose that inyour early history of creating your orderly realm you had discovered onone of your islands a race of Falsethsa as advanced and regulated asyourselves who wished nothing to do with you?" He could feel thealerted tension of the four as the golden eyes glowed at him.

  "The implications of your question are obvious," the First of theCouncil spoke, as coldly as ever. "Do you threaten us with force fromyour Combine devoted to peace?" The flat voice of the translator hummedwith acquired and impossible violence which Powers knew to besubjective.

  The First continued. "We would resist to the ultimate, down to theleast of our young and the most helpless female weed cultivator! Doyour worst!"

  Powers sat back. He had done his best. The hereditary dictatorship of aunited world had spoken. No democratic minority had ever raised itshead here. The society of Mureess was stratified in a way ancient Indianever thought of being, down to refuse collectors of a thousandgenerations of dishonorable standing. Ancient Japan had been as rigidlyexclusionist but there _had_ been a progressive element there. Herethere was nothing. Nothing that is, except a united world of coldlycalculating and very advanced entities about to erupt into space withHeaven knew what weapons and a murderous arrogance and race pride tobolster them.

  He thought of the dead orb called Sebelia, rolling around its worthlesssun, an object of nausea to all life. And he had helped. Well, the boysin Biology had the ball now. He forced himself to listen to the Firstof Council as he bade Mazechazz a courteous farewell.

  "Depart in harmony and peace, Honorable Star-farers. May your GreatMother be benign, when you return to give your high council our messageon the far-distant worlds you have shown us in the sky."

  The Council departed, leaving Powers and Mazechazz staring at eachother in the council chamber, their gaudy uniforms looking a littledull and drab.

  "Well, Sakh," said Powers, his ruddy face a little flushed, "we can'tbe perfect. They don't know about spacewarps and instantaneouscommunicators. Plan II has nothing to do with us."

  "Beyond our recommendation, you mean," said the Lyran flatly. "We havefailed, William. This means death for thousands of innocent beings,perhaps more. Their world population is about eighty million, youknow."

  There was silence in the room until Powers broke it again.

  "Would you have Sebelia, Sakh," he asked gently, "or Ruller I,Bellevan's world, or Labath?" There was no answer to this and he knewit. There was only one alternative to a dead, burned-out, empty planet.Mureess was in the wrong stage of development, and it would have to bebrought in line. The Sirian Combine had to, and would remove anyintelligent unknown menace from a position from which it could threatenits Master plan of integrated peace. As they left the chamber, Powerssaid a silent prayer and touched the tiny Crescent and Star embroideredon his shirt pocket. At least, he thought, the planted ultra-wavecommunicators would be there when the Falsethsa needed them. He lookedout of a corridor port at the gray and rolling sea. The Great Mother,he thought bitterly, benevolent and overflowing!

  Traleres-124, female gardener, aged thirty-two cycles, hummed in aminor key as she harvested weed of the solstice crop, twelve miles offthe northern islands. A rest period was due in the next cycle day, andshe and her mate were ahead of quota which should make the supervisorgive them a good holiday.

  The tall weed swayed gently against her and several small fish dartedpast in fright. As the first heavy beat of the water struck against herslim body, she looked up. Frozen with horror, she released hercontainer, but in forty feet of water, the monster caught her beforeshe had moved a hundred yards.

  As it fed, horribly, other grim shapes, attracted by the blood moved infrom the distant murk of deeper water.

  Savathake-er rode his one-man torpedo alertly as he probed the southernbay of Ramasarett. He was a scientist-12 and also a hereditary hunter.If the giant fish, long since eliminated from the rest of the seas,were breeding in some secret area of the far and desolate southernrocks, it was his business to know it. No fish could catch hishigh-powered torpedo, while his electric spears packed a lethal jolt.Probably, he thought, a rumor of the poor fisher folk who worked thesouthern fringe areas. What else could you expect from such types, whohad never even learned to read in a thousand cycles. Nevertheless, ashe patrolled the sunken rocks, he was alert, scanning the water on allsides constantly for the great shape he sought, his skin alert for thefirst strange vibration. By neglecting the broken bottom, brown withlaminaria and kelp, he missed the great, mottled tentacle which pluckedhim off his torpedo in a flash of movement, leaving the riderless craftto cruise aimlessly away into the distance.

  "Your highness," said the Supervisor Supreme, "we are helpless. We havenever used metal nets, because we have never had to. Our fiber netsthey slash to ribbons. They attack every species of food-fish from theUrsaa to the Krad. The breeding rate is fantastic, and now my equal whocontrols the mines says they are attacking the miners despite all theprotection he can give them. They are not large, but in millions----"

  "Cease your outcries," said the First in Council, wearily, "and removethat animal from my writing desk. I have seen many pictures of it sincethey first appeared five cycles ago. It still looks alien andrepulsive."

  They stared in silence at the shape that any high-school biologystudent of distant Terra could have identified in his sleep.

  At length, the First in Council dismissed the Supervisor of Fisheriesand headed thoughtfully for an inner room of his palace. He knew atlast the meaning of the strange metal communicating devices, discoveredand confiscated, after the star ship had departed, six cycles before.It was a simple machine to operate, and he guessed food could be sentincredibly quickly to his starving planet. Just as quickly as otherthings, he thought grimly. And we have to beg. Hah. Admission to thegreat peace-loving Combine, may the crabs devour them.

  But he knew that he would send and
that they would come.

  "I was comparing the two reports, my friend," said Mazechazz, "but I amnot so familiar with your planetary ecology as I should be. WhenMureess applied for admission to the Combine, I requested a copy oftheir secret directive from Biology, but I had never seen the olderreport until you gave it to me just now. Can you explain the names tome, if I read them off?"

  "Go ahead," said Powers, sipping his sherbet noisily. He seldomwondered what alcohol would feel like any longer. Most Old Believershad tried it when young and disliked it.

  "I've already looked up the names I didn't know," he said, "so startthe Mureessan list first."

  "Great White Shark, or Man-eater," read Mazechazz. "He sounds obviousand nasty."

  "He is," said Powers. He