he meadow were filled with cement
by the end of the fifth day.

He let his stunned mind become wrapped in the problem of completing this
job--the weight of the shovel in his hand, the heat of the sun on his
back--these were what he thought about. It was not a solution or even
escape, just a stall.

The sixth day brought a visitor.

The shock of someone knocking at the door, walking in, introducing
himself and sitting down to talk yanked Aron's mind into awareness.

The only way to achieve a landing would be for a friendly ship to signal
him and have him de-activate the defenses--which definitely had not
happened!

Therefore it was hallucination, a miracle, or at least an interesting
trick that this man had appeared at his station. Aron took interest,
demanding that the man start from the beginning again as he had missed
the introductions due to slight surprise.

"I said I am Karl Rondwell, an agent and representative of the People's
Republic, being a member of the Intelligence department of her imperial
navy," the man replied.

"The first question is, naturally," Aron said, "How the Hell did you get
here?"

A slight smile. "Your much-vaunted defenses that are supposed to be able
to snuff out the mightiest fleet, these defenses are easy to pass--for
one man."

Aron could see that easily enough. "What is your purpose here then?"

"A deal, naturally!"

"I imagined so. You will have to persuade me, because you can't remove
me and take over those defenses. Lack of knowledge of the proper code
would trip you up when our United Empire ships came snooping around as
they do so often."

"Since we understand the rules of the game," the enemy agent said,
"let's proceed with it.

"Let me begin with a discussion of civilization. You may have forgotten
something about it in your secluded life here."

The agent went on to speak of civilization, its comforts. Since he was a
spy, he had spent a good deal of time in the United Republic. He spoke
in terms of a man with money, the plush night spots, the beautiful girls
that would be only too glad to be friendly with a wealthy man.

"All right," Aron interrupted him. "That's clever oratory, but money
isn't all I'll take to sell out my empire. What else have you to offer,
and remember, I'm not buying--just looking."

The agent made his case stronger by comparing plush civilization to the
futile hermit's existence of a TA observer, throwing in a few remarks
about the brev