the Federation and who would like to switch to Cathay."

"Wait a minute," Duke said. He studied the alien, trying to rake what
he'd learned from the article out of his memory. But no record of
subtlety or deceit had been listed there. The Sugfarth were supposed to
be honest--in fact, they'd been one of the rare races to declare their
war in advance. Somehow, too, the words had a ring of truth in them.
"_For_ Cathay?"

"Certainly, captain. For whom else? The civilized Earth races naturally
have to stick together against the barbarians."

Duke stared at the almost comic figure, juggling the words he had heard
with the obvious facts. "What Earth races? Do you mean that Earth is
now giving citizenship to your people?"

"Not on this planet, of course." A pair of beady black eyes stared
back, as if trying to understand a ridiculous question. "But we're
citizens of Earth's economic-cultural-diplomatic system, naturally."

Duke felt something nibble at his mind, but he couldn't grasp it. And
he wasn't accustomed to carrying on long chitchat with aliens. He
shoved the thoughts away and reached for the paper again. "You won't
find recruits here, Queeth. Only me. And I'm too old for the recruiting
law. Besides, I've got to find a job."

He turned the pages, locating the column he wanted. What had Flannery
meant about Republican Rome? Duke could remember dimly something about
Rome's granting citizenship to her conquered neighbors. It had been the
basis of the city's growth and later power. Now if Earth could inspire
citizenship from conquered aliens--

Queeth made a sound like a sigh and shuffled his four feet on the
sidewalk uncertainly. "If you came aboard on a visit, who could stop
our taking off at once?" he suggested. "We have room for another
officer, and we need men like you, Captain O'Neill, to help us against
the aliens out there!"

Duke looked down at the small face, and even the alien features
couldn't disguise the obvious sincerity behind the words. It should
have made his decision automatic. He'd come here to be recruited, and
he was being accepted. There was a ship waiting for him, where his
skills could be used. With such a ship, things would be different from
the war he had known. He had a picture of Kloomiria under attack from
it.

Abruptly, he was seeing again the exploding ships of Throm, and the
charnel smell of Kordule on victorious Meloa was thick in his nose.

He stood up, shaking his head, and h