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Yes, you put them in concentration camps, Lysander nodded. How long do you keep them there?
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As long as necessary, Boyle said through his teeth.
Sandy mulled that over for a minute. There s one other possibility you haven t mentioned, he pointed
out. You could just tell them they had to go visit some other star. Would I be correct if I thought you
had considered that and decided it wouldn t work?
You would, Boyle said shortly, but Marguery spoke up, ignoring his angry look.
They can t, Sandy, she told him. Remember, we said they were desperate. Their drive systems are
beginning to wear out. Polly told us that; something about radiation-induced weaknesses in the support
structure. She says it s beginning to get serious. The supports might hold up for a few hundred years yet,
or they might go in ten.
So they re stuck here, Boyle added.
I see, Lysander said, nodding. And then he said, Poor bastards. Well. Is there anything else we need
to talk about right now?
Only to make sure you know what you re supposed to do
I do know, Boyle. You think there ll only be two of the party in the landing craft itself?
Usually there are two. They take turns. Two come out and talk to us, two stay in the ship. Boyle
hesitated. At least, he said, I hope so. There s one little problem.
Something else you haven t told me? Lysander inquired politely.
Something I m telling younow, Boyle said sharply. They ve been out of communication with the
interstellar ship for about ten hours now. Interference.
What do you mean, interference?
We ve got a high-altitude blimp up there, broadcasting jamming signals, Boyle explained. They can t
talk to the ship; the ship can t talk to them. Don t give me that kind of look, Lysander! We had to do it.
We didn t want them stirring up trouble when they couldn t get an answer from Hippolyta or you. It s
possible that they ll be so concerned about that that they ll all be in the ship, but probably they ll take it to
be some natural thing, like sunspot effects.
You hope, said Lysander. Well, it can t be very comfortable for them in there, so maybe they ll get
out when they can anyway. He thought for a moment, then added, I can do what you want me to, I
think, although it would be easier if I went in by myself.
No. It s going to be the way I say. Marguery goes with you.
Sandy shrugged. And you ll take them prisoner as they come out?
Of course.
All right, said Sandy. Then there s just one thing left. I ll need one of those. He pointed to the gun at
Boyle s belt.
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Boyle raised an eyebrow in surprise. For what? You said yourself you couldn t threaten a Hakh hli.
Sandy gave him a pleasant smile. You can kill one, he said. And now I d appreciate it if you d get me
a pencil and paper. And don t talk to me for a while, please. I think I d like to write a poem.
They couldn t see the little settlement that had grown up around the lander as the jet came down; in that
heat-drenched, almost windowless jet they had nothing useful to see out of. Only the pilot had any real
visibility.
Peering past the pilot s head, Lysander caught a glimpse of cloud, sky, mountain, cloud again; and then
the aircraft was bouncing along a runway, the jets screaming louder than ever as the reversed thrust
slowed them down. The deceleration threw Sandy against his straps.
Then they stopped rolling.
Lysander unbuckled quickly and reached to open the hatch, but Boyle put a hand on his shoulder. You
asked for this, he said, offering the gun from his holster.
Lysander turned the flat, heavy thing over in his hand, wonderingly. It was so small and so sinister. This
could kill a person?
You mean could it kill a Hakh hli? It could kill an elephant, Sandy. It s got a shaped charge in the
load.
Show me how to use it, said Sandy. Grudgingly Boyle led him around the far side of the ship, toward
the open runway. Sandy got only a glimpse of the lander, fully erected, with its brightly colored shrapnel
shroud already in place. More than anything else the lander looked like a praying mantis gift-wrapped for
Christmas.
It didn t take long for Boyle to explain safety, sights, and trigger to Sandy. Warned, he braced his arm
when he fired it for the first time. Even so the recoil was a surprise. It wasn t noisy, though. The sound of
firing was only a sharpthwuck, rather than the violent explosion he had imagined, but it made a second,
louder sound when the charge struck what it was aimed at (or anyway, where it happened to go by
courtesy of his inexpert marksmanship). It blew craters a foot deep in the runway as it hit.
Lysander shook his head, turning to Boyle. That s no good. I could blow the lander up if I hit the wrong
place.
Boyle said, Well, I suppose we could give you solid rounds instead of the h.e., but I don t know if they
would kill a Hakh hli.
They won t know that, Lysander said. Give me the rounds.
Even a dedicated Hakh hli would not spend days and weeks in the lander if he could help it; it was too
cramped, too bare, too uncomfortable certainly too boring. The humans had obligingly airlifted a sort of
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