t said, and then repeated the phrase in six
languages. "The ship you see is a Venusian Class 7 interplanetary
rocket, built for one-passenger. It is clear of all radiation, and is
perfectly safe to approach. There is a hatch which may be opened by an
automatic lever in the side. Please open this hatch and remove the
passenger."

An Air Force General whom Jerry couldn't identify stepped forward. He
circled the ship warily, and then said something to the others. They
came closer, and he touched a small lever on the silvery surface of the
funnel.

A door slid open.

"It's a box!" someone said.

"A crate--"

"Colligan! Moore! Schaffer! Lend a hand here--"

A trio came forward and hoisted the crate out of the ship. Then the
voice spoke again; Jerry deduced that it must have been activated by the
decreased load of the ship.

"Please open the crate. You will find our delegate within. We trust you
will treat him with the courtesy of an official emissary."

They set to work on the crate, its gray plastic material giving in
readily to the application of their tools. But when it was opened, they
stood aside in amazement and consternation.

There were a variety of metal pieces packed within, protected by a filmy
packing material.

"Wait a minute," the general said. "Here's a book--"

He picked up a gray-bound volume, and opened its cover.

"'Instructions for assembling Delegate,'" he read aloud. "'First, remove
all parts and arrange them in the following order. A-1, central nervous
system housing. A-2 ...'" He looked up. "It's an instruction book," he
whispered. "We're supposed to _build_ the damn thing."

* * * * *

The Delegate, a handsomely constructed robot almost eight feet tall, was
pieced together some three hours later, by a team of scientists and
engineers who seemed to find the Venusian instructions as elementary as
a blueprint in an Erector set. But simple as the job was, they were
obviously impressed by the mechanism they had assembled. It stood
impassive until they obeyed the final instruction. "Press Button K ..."

They found button K, and pressed it.

The robot bowed.

"Thank you, gentlemen," it said, in sweet, unmetallic accents. "Now if
you will please escort me to the meeting place ..."

* * * * *

It wasn't until three days after the landing that Jerry Bridges saw the
Delegate again. Along with a dozen assorted government offic