sed to it--"

The agent interrupted. Aron knew he was not comprehending what he was
saying, the man was still in a state of shock. But Aron knew the words
were there, in the man's brain till he died. He could reason them out
later.

"All right, all right," the agent said, "I am not here to argue
philosophy. I just want to know why our plans failed."

"Since your wife's death didn't make you disillusioned enough to be
receptive to treason, weren't you at least impressed with our offers of
fabulous wealth and release from this prison?"

Aron rose from his chair and walked to the window. He didn't notice the
agent and his menacing gun. He didn't care.

He looked out at the lifeless sunset of the world that sported the bare
minimum of vegetation so it couldn't be insulted with the word "barren".

"Just another case of Intelligence men's stupidity," Aron said so
quietly that the other man had to lean forward to hear. "Don't you know
anything about your own territorial administration or ours? Do you know
how they choose their men for these stations?"

"No, that isn't our department," was the answer.

Aron turned from the window and looked at him, seeming surprised to see
him and hear him.

"Well, what sort of men would they choose? Where could they get men with
the intelligence and ability required to operate one of these stations
and cope with situations such as I've faced here? Where would they get
such men to renounce the brilliant careers they could have amongst
civilization with such capabilities?"

"Damn it! Stop playing games. Spill what you've got to say!"

Aron looked at him coldly, searchingly, "Since you are attached to the
Navy I imagine you've clocked many hours in space." When the agent
nodded, Aron said, "Then, if you are lucky and show enough sense, you
will become a TA man."

Slowly, comprehension came to the Intelligence man. The gun clutched in
his hand lowered, his whole body slumped as he caught on to the fact
they had overlooked. The fact that caused the failure of their plans.
The fact that was his grim future.

"Fermi radiations!" Aron barked. "They rot your cells, weaken the blood,
ruin the body. A man can spend about five years as a spaceman, about
twenty months of which is spent in actual space. Twenty months and the
man is doomed.

"If the man is smart he can become a space officer, then when he retires
at twenty-five, he can land a good job with the TA. He doesn't want
anything t