either find
out what makes these people tick--or we are going to have to stand
by and watch the whole lot blown up!"

"Going to do what!" Lea gasped. "Destroy them? Wipe out this
fascinating genetic pool? Why?

"Because they are so incredibly loathsome, that's why!" Ihjel said.
"These aboriginal hotheads have managed to lay their hands on some
primitive cobalt bombs. They want to light the fuse and drop these
bombs on Nyjord, the next planet. Nothing said or done can convince
them differently. They demand unconditional surrender, or else. This
is impossible for a lot of reasons--most important, because the
Nyjorders would like to keep their planet for their very own. They
have tried every kind of compromise but none of them works. The
Disans are out to commit racial suicide. A Nyjord fleet is now over
Dis and the deadline has almost expired for the surrender of the
cobalt bombs. The Nyjord ships carry enough H-bombs to turn the
entire planet into an atomic pile. That is what we must stop."

Brion looked at the solido on the screen, trying to make some
judgment of the man. Bare, horny feet. A bulky, ragged length of
cloth around the waist was the only garment. What looked like a
piece of green vine was hooked over one shoulder. From a plaited
belt were suspended a number of odd devices made of hand-beaten
metal, drilled stone and looped leather. The only recognizable item
was a thin knife of unusual design. Loops of piping, flared bells,
carved stones tied in senseless patterns of thonging gave the rest
of the collection a bizarre appearance. Perhaps they had some
religious significance. But the well-worn and handled look of most
of them gave Brion an uneasy sensation. If they were used--what in
the universe could they be used _for_?

"I can't believe it," he finally concluded. "Except for the exotic
hardware, this lowbrow looks as if he has sunk back into the Stone
Age. I don't see how his kind can be any real threat to another
planet."

"The Nyjorders believe it, and that's good enough for me," Ihjel
said. "They are paying our Cultural Relationships Foundation a good
sum to try and prevent this war. Since they are our employers, we
must do what they ask." Brion ignored this large lie, since it was
obviously designed as an explanation for Lea. But he made a mental
note to query Ihjel later about the real situation.

"Here are the tech reports." Ihjel dropped them on the table. "Dis
has some spacers as well as t