getting him would give them power over
us. I wish I knew a little more about Ullran psychology."

"One thing," Blount said. "It doesn't take any Ullran psychologist to
know about eighty per cent of them hate us poisonously."

"Oh, rubbish!" Harrington blew the exclamation out around his pipe
stem with a gush of smoke. "A few fanatics hate us, but nine-tenths of
them have benefitted enormously from us."

"And hate us more deeply with each new benefit," Blount added. "They
resent everything we've done for them."

"Yes, this spaceport proposition of King Orgzild of Keegark looks like
it, doesn't it?" Harrington retorted. "He hates us so much he's
offered us a spaceport at his city...."

"At what cost?" Blount asked. "He takes the land from some noble he
executes for treason and gives it to us--together with forced labor.
We furnish everything else. We get a port we don't need, and he gets
all the business it'll bring. In fact, considering that Rakkeed is a
welcome guest there, I wonder if he isn't fomenting trouble here at
Konkrook to make us move our main base to Keegark. He's so sure we'll
accept already that he's started building two new power-reactors to
handle the additional demand from increased business."

"Where's he getting the plutonium?" von Schlichten asked,
suspiciously.

"He just bought four tons of it from us, off the _City of Pretoria_,"
Harrington replied.

"A hell of a lot of plutonium," Blount said. "I wonder if he has any
idea of what else plutonium can be used for?"

"Oh, God, I hope not!" Harrington exclaimed. "Bosh! What about those
letters Keeluk gave the Quinton girl?"

"All addressed to rabidly anti-Terran Rakkeed disciples," von
Schlichten replied. "We couldn't find any indication of a cipher, but
the gossip about Keeluk's friends might have had code-meanings. I'll
have to advise her to have nothing to do with any of the people
Keeluk gave her letters to."

"Think she'll listen to you? These Extraterrestrial Rights Association
people are a lot of blasted fanatics, themselves. They think we're a
gang of bloody-fisted, flint-hearted imperialists."

"Oh, they're not as bad as all that. Old Mohammed Ferriera's always
been decent enough. And the Association's really done a lot of good in
other places."

A calculating look came into Harrington's eye. "She was going to
Skilk, eh? And you're going there yourself, to investigate some of
this Rakkeed worry of Eric's. Why not invite her al