of blueskins than ever before, and even more implacably the enemy of the
starving planet's population. Weald itself throve and prospered.
Ironically, it had such an excess of foodstuffs that it stored them in
unneeded space-ships in orbits about itself. Hundreds of thousands of
tons of grain circled Weald in sealed-tight hulks, while the people of
Dara starved and only dared try to steal--it could be called
stealing--some of the innumerable wild cattle of Orede.

The blueskins on Orede could not trust Calhoun, so they pretended not to
hear--or maybe they didn't hear. They'd been abandoned and betrayed by
all of humanity beyond their world. They'd been threatened and oppressed
by guardships in orbit about them, ready to shoot down any space-craft
they might send aloft.

So Calhoun pondered ...

* * * * *

A long time later Calhoun heard small sounds which were not normal on a
Med Ship in overdrive. They were not part of the random noises carefully
generated to keep the silence of the ship endurable. Calhoun raised his
head. He listened sharply. No sound could come from outside.

He knocked on the door of the sleeping-cabin. The noises stopped
instantly.

"Come out," he commanded through the door.

"I'm--I'm all right," said Maril's voice. But it was not quite steady.
She paused. "I was just having a bad dream."

"I wish," said Calhoun, "that you'd tell me the truth occasionally! Come
out, please!"

There were stirrings. After a little the door opened and Maril appeared.
She looked as if she'd been crying. She said quickly;

"I probably look queer, but it's because I was asleep."

"To the contrary," said Calhoun, fuming, "you've been lying awake
crying. I don't know why. I've been out here wishing I could sleep,
because I'm frustrated. But since you aren't asleep maybe you can help
me with my job. I've figured some things out. For some others I need
facts. How about it?"

She swallowed.

"I'll try."

"Coffee?" he asked.

Murgatroyd popped his head out of his miniature sleeping-cabin.

"_Chee?_" he asked interestedly.

"Go back to sleep!" snapped Calhoun.

He began to pace back and forth.

"I need to know something about the pigment patches," he said jerkily.
"Maybe it sounds crazy to think of such things now. First things first,
you know. But that is a first thing! So long as Darians don't look like
the people of other worlds, they'll be considered different. If they