ce simple people usually liked fables. He
spoke of the ship, not mentioning yet that it was out of fuel. He spoke
of Cascella, telling the chief how its fame was known throughout the
Galaxy.

"That is as it should be," the chief said proudly. "We are a race of
warriors, the like of which has never been seen. Every man of us dies
fighting."

"You must have fought some great wars," Fannia said politely, wondering
what idiot had written up the galactic report.

"I have not fought a war for many years," the chief said. "We are united
now, and all our enemies have joined us."

Bit by bit, Fannia led up to the matter of the fuel.

"What is this 'fuel'?" the chief asked, haltingly because there was no
equivalent for it in the Cascellan language.

"It makes our ship go."

"And where is it?"

"In the metal spire," Fannia said. "If you would just allow us--"

"In the holy shrine?" the chief exclaimed, shocked. "The tall metal
church which the gods left here long ago?"

"Yeah," Fannia said sadly, knowing what was coming. "I guess that's
it."

"It is sacrilege for an outworlder to go near it," the chief said. "I
forbid it."

"We need the fuel." Fannia was getting tired of sitting cross-legged.
Space armor wasn't built for complicated postures. "The spire was put
here for such emergencies."

"Strangers, know that I am god of my people, as well as their leader. If
you dare approach the sacred temple, there will be war."

"I was afraid of that," Fannia said, getting to his feet.

"And since we are a race of warriors," the chief said, "at my command,
every fighting man of the planet will move against you. More will come
from the hills and from across the rivers."

Abruptly, the chief drew a knife. It must have been a signal, because
every native in the room did the same.

* * * * *

Fannia dragged Donnaught away from the toys. "Look, lummox. These
friendly warriors can't do a damn thing to us. Those knives can't cut
space armor, and I doubt if they have anything better. Don't let them
pile up on you, though. Use the paralyzer first, the needler if they
really get thick."

"Right." Donnaught whisked out and primed a paralyzer in a single
coordinated movement. With weapons, Donnaught was fast and reliable,
which was virtue enough for Fannia to keep him as a partner.

"We'll cut around this building and grab the fuel. Two cans ought to be
enough. Then we'll beat it fast."

They w