* * *

Doer Kweiros flipped off the playback and gazed at the unresponsive
wall. He rubbed the back of his head, looked at the viewsphere, then
checked the playback index and tapped the rewind.

"Oh, me," he complained sorrowfully, "how do we get into these things?"

He looked toward the communicator controls unhappily, then reached out
and dialed a number. The sphere lit and an alert face looked at him
inquiringly.

"How is that Forell boy?"

"Soaking up information like a sponge, sir."

Kweiros nodded. "Gathered he might," he remarked. "Send him up here,
will you? And have Jaeger come with him."

"Yes, sir."

Kweiros snapped the communicator off, sat back to drum idly on his desk,
then got up and walked over to his master file control board. He glanced
at the index, then punched out a sequence on the buttons. There was a
subdued hum and a door opened. Kweiros reached into the compartment, to
take out several tape reels. He glanced at them, nodded, and went back
to the desk, where he spread them out and looked from one to another.
Finally, he selected one of the smaller reels and started to thread it
into the playback.

There was a light tap on the door and he looked up.

"So soon? Come in."

A tall, sharp-featured guardsman entered and stood at attention. Beside
him was a boy, who looked curiously and a little fearfully at the
officer, who waved to chairs.

"Sit down, both of you. I'm not going to claw you. Just want to go over
a few things. I've some ideas, but I want to be sure of a couple of
points." The captain glanced at the reels before him.

"One thing puzzles me, Jaeger. Why did you have notes in the planetary
language in your communications room?"

Jaeger stirred uneasily. "I started doing that some time ago, sir," he
explained. "You see, their language is quite dissimilar to either my own
or to Galactica, and I have yet to learn to think in it. I wanted to
avoid any possibility of lapsing away from it, so I translated my
instructions and notes, hoping to keep myself constantly reminded to
refrain from using Galactica at any time." He spread his hands. "I
suppose--"

Kweiros waved. "Logical, I presume," he admitted. "Anyway, that's done,
and we can't do much about it now. Now for another thing." He glanced at
the tape reels. "I noticed that the villagers in your area regarded you
as a sorcerer. What cause did they have to form such an opinion?"

"None, sir, that I kno