th across the apron, remained poised on the center of the runway, then
disappeared almost instantaneously.

* * * * *

The Intersolar Council weathered the storm. The representative of the
colony on Venus was recalled, his political life temporarily ended. A
vigilante committee did for a time picket the spaceport. But the
tremendous emotional outbursts of the first day gradually gave way to a
semblance of order.

Video speakers, some of them with huge followings, still denounced the
ISC for permitting the alien to land in the first place. Others clamored
for a fleet to pursue the arrogant visitor. And there were many fools
who chose to ignore the implications of the strange speech and its
implied threat. Some even thought it was a gigantic hoax.

But most men soon came to restore their trust in the scientists of the
Intersolar Council.

Harrison cast down the long sheet of morning news that had rolled out of
the machine.

"The fools! They'll play politics right up to the last, won't they?"

"What else?" asked Mills. "Playing politics is as good a way as any of
avoiding what you can't figure out or solve."

"And yet, what the hell are _we_ doing here?" Harrison mused. "Listen to
this."

He picked up a stapled sheaf of papers from his desk.

"'_Analysis of word usage indicates a complete knowledge of the English
language_'--that's brilliant, isn't it? '_The ideational content and
general semantic tone of the alien speech indicates a relatively high
intelligence._

"'_Usage is current, precise...._' Bob, the man who wrote that report is
one of the finest semantics experts in the solar system. He's the brain
that finally broke that ancient Martian ceremonial language they found
on the columns."

"Well, mastermind," said Mills. "What will the _Engineering_ report say
when you get around to writing it?"

"Engineering report? What are you talking about?"

"You didn't read the memo on your desk then? The one that requested a
preliminary report from every department by 2200 today."

"Good God, no," said Harrison snapping up the thin yellow sheet. "What
in hell has a sword got to do with Engineering?"

"What's it got to do with Semantics?" mocked Robert Mills.

* * * * *

_Construct this. It is defective. Correct that which renders it not
useful._

Harrison's eyes burned. He would have to quit pretty soon and dictate
the report. There wasn't an