for your
sake, I'll take you by the hand, and try to lead you down the road of
intelligence. But first, you better go over the situation once more.

"We are on Kash," said Dillon, visibly controlling his patience. "It's
the fourth world of a G-type sun of the periphery, unnamed in the
catalogues. For that reason, we have assigned it the native name. Kash
is their term for both the star and the planet, and roughly translates
as 'home of the Gods'.

"The planet was first contacted during the great galactic expansion of
2317, when the sole native language was taped. The planet is
approximately two-thirds the size of Earth, but its density is somewhat
less, so the gravity is about half that of Earth. It is moonless, and so
far from galactic center that scarcely a hundred stars are visible in
the sky. Thus a trained observer can usually pick out the other five
planets of the system with no trouble at all." He paused, and took a
drink of water.

"Six months ago it was contacted by Unit 317 of Extrasol Traders...."

"Namely you," said Cassidy.

"Me. A month was spent mapping the planet and searching out native
villages. I then returned to base and picked up supplies necessary for
setting up an outpost. Two months ago I returned.

"And all Hell broke loose...."

* * * * *

Night fell quickly, and with little relief on Kash, for the stars were
few and far between, and shed little light. Dillon stepped out of the
office that was doing double-duty as living quarters until separate
quarters could be set up, and started for the nearby well. He cursed as
he realized his flashlight still lay on the desk, but the light pouring
from the open door was enough to see by, and he decided against
returning.

As he walked, he breathed deeply of the tangy night air, and sighed with
satisfaction. This world was infinitely more pleasurable than the last
he had posted, and he intended to enjoy his stay.

He let his thoughts ramble as he walked and so almost ran down the
waiting alien before he saw him. The native's huge eyes gleamed softly
in the spill of light from the office, and the gray down that covered
his body and head, except for the face, seemed soft and alive.

"Tarsa, Bila," said the Earthman, using the native greeting.

"Tarsa, starman. May the Gods shine their eternal light on you."

"And on you," Dillon said, observing the ritual. "But what brings you
here at night?"

"The night is bea