to an urn of chilled perfume and gently
dabbed it about his nostril. Speaking pleasantly, with long pauses
between sentences, he kept his friendly gaze on the groveling Wert.
"Oft I meditate on the clumsiness of our race in comparison to many
others who are our graceful servants. Why, I wonder, cannot the rulers
be graceful? Some of us are very clumsy indeed--too clumsy to live."

A tremor passed through Wert's stocky body.

"Possibly my Lord of War has news of sufficient import to excuse his
ungainly haste. But I sincerely doubt it. I fear I must soon appoint a
successor to him. Undoubtedly he has news of some sort. Blurt, Wert!"

"Your Majestic Wisdom," whined Wert, "my message is of utmost
importance! The natives of Sol III have captured one of our
decontaminator ships and learned its secrets!"

"Sol III?"

"Yes, Your Wisdom. The planet called Terra."

"Terra? You must realize, lordling, that I cannot occupy myself with
remembering trivialities about individual worlds."

"Yes, Your Wisdom. We have a base, which is commanded by--that is, we
_had_ a base commanded--"

"Enough!" snapped Tresqu. "You start your tale from nowhere and wander
whence and hence!" He raised his voice and called to one of his
retainers. "Fool! Come forward!"

An abnormally slender Hovan arose from a platform off to Tresqu's left
and skipped nimbly forward to stand insolently over the Lord of War,
who was still prone on the Pleading Mat.

"Recite for me," said Tresqu, "the contents of my gazetteer on the
planet Sol III. Listen well, Wert. You may even yet live long enough
to profit by my Fool's style of declamation. Study it well. Also, you
may raise your eyes sufficiently to observe the grace of his
movements. Proceed, sprite."

"Sol III," began the Fool. "An H9 planet. Sol is in the Sirian Colony
Sector, coordinates GL 15-44-17-5, GR 12 [to the power of 7] plus 9, D
14. Terra's life is normal animal-vegetable, with one intelligent
species of hovoids called Humans. Due to the unpleasantly high oxygen
content of the atmosphere, Terra has not been colonized, but has been
placed under the control of the Science Ministry for the purpose of
long-range psychological experiments." The Fool picked up Wert's tail
and twisted it hard but absently as he talked. The Lord of War
twitched painfully. "Many informative reports on the results of these
experiments have been released by the ministry during the past seven
thousand years, dealing main