make sense," Jack said. "There _must_ be intelligent
creatures down there. They're sending radio signals."

"Then why a report like this?" Tiger said. "This was filed by a routine
exploratory ship that came here eight hundred years ago. You can't tell
me that any intelligent race could develop from scratch in less than
eight centuries' time."

Dal picked up the report and read it again. "This red giant star," he
read, "was studied in the usual fashion. It was found to have seven
planets, all but one lying within the tenuous outer gas envelope of the
star itself. The seventh planet has an atmosphere of its own, and
travels an orbit well outside the star surface. This planet was selected
for landing and exploration."

Following this was a long, detailed and exceedingly dull description of
the step-by-step procedure followed by a Confederation exploratory ship
making a first landing on a barren planet. There was a description of
the atmosphere, the soil surface, the land masses and major water
bodies. Physically, the planet was a desert, hot and dry, and barren of
vegetation excepting in two or three areas of jungle along the equator.
"The planet is inhabited by numerous small unintelligent animal species
which seem well-adapted to the semi-arid conditions. Of higher animals
and mammals only two species were discovered, and of these the most
highly developed was an erect biped with an integrated central nervous
system and the intelligence level of a Garvian _drachma_."

"How small is that?" Jack said.

"Idiot-level," Dal said glumly. "I.Q. of about 20 on the human scale. I
guess the explorers weren't much impressed; they didn't even put the
planet down for a routine colonization survey."

"Well, _something_ has happened down there since then. Idiots can't
build interstellar radios." Jack turned to Tiger. "Are you getting
them?"

Tiger nodded. A voice was coming over the speaker, hesitant and
apologetic, using the common tongue of the Galactic Confederation. "How
soon can you come?" the voice was asking clearly, still with the sound
of great reticence. "There is not much time."

"But who are you?" Tiger asked. "What's wrong down there?"

"We are sick, dying, thousands of us. But if you have other work that is
more pressing, we would not want to delay you--"

Jack shook his head, frowning. "I don't get this," he said. "What are
they afraid of?"

Tiger spoke into the microphone again. "We will be glad to help, b