. But how about the permanent files that were forwarded to
Aldebaran depository?"

Meinora smiled grimly. "Something else that couldn't happen. We're still
looking for traces of that courier ship. I suppose they ran afoul of a
Merokian task force, but there's nothing to go on. They just
disappeared." He picked up the mental communicator, examining the signs
of aging.

"One by one," he continued, "the case files and property records of
Sector Nine are being reconstructed. Every guardsman even remotely
associated with the Sector before the attack is being interviewed, and a
lot of them are working on the reconstruction. It's been a long job, but
we're nearly done now. This is one of the last planets to be located and
rechecked, and it's been over a period since the last visit they've had
from any of our teams. On this planet, that's some fifty-odd
generations. Evidently the original operatives didn't demolish their
equipment, and fifty some generations of descendants have messed things
up pretty thoroughly."

Konar looked at the bench. Besides the equipment he had just brought in,
there were other items, all in varying stages of disrepair and ruin.

"Yes, sir," he agreed. "If this is a sample, and if the social
conditions I've seen since I joined the team are typical, they have. Now
what?"

"We've been picking up equipment. Piece by piece, we've been accounting
for every one of those items issued. Some of 'em were lost. Some of 'em
probably wore out and were discarded, or were burned--like this, only
more so." Meinora pointed at the wrecked communicator.

"Local legends tell us about violent explosions, so we know a few
actually discharged. And we've tracked down the place where the flier
cracked up and bit out a hole the size of a barony. Those items are gone
without trace." He sighed.

"That introduces an uncertainty factor, of course, but the equipment in
the hands of natives, and the stuff just lying around in deserted areas
has to be tracked down. This planet will develop a technology some day,
and we don't want anything about to raise questions and doubts when it
does. The folklore running around now is bad enough. When we get the
equipment back, we've got to clean up the social mess left by the
descendants of those original operatives."

"Nice job."

"Very nice. We'll be busy for a long time." Meinora picked up a small
tape reel. "Just got this," he explained. "That's why I was waiting for
you here. It'