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the basic foundation of the Charter which every member of U.P. and particularly every citizen of United Planets, such as ourselves, has sworn to uphold. But the very reason for the existence of this Section G is to interfere with the internal affairs of member planets, to subvert their governments, their economic systems, their religions, their ideals, their very way of life.”

Metaxa yawned and reached into a desk drawer for his bottle. β€œThat’s right,” he said. β€œAnybody like a drink?”

Ronny ignored him. β€œI’m surprised I didn’t catch on even sooner,” he said. β€œOn New Delos Mouley Hassan, the local agent, knew the God-King was going to be assassinated. He brought in extra agents and even a detail of Space Forces guards for the emergency. He probably engineered the assassination himself.”

β€œNope,” Jakes said. β€œWe seldom go that far. Local rebels did the actual work, but, admittedly, we knew what they were planning. In fact, I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that Mouley Hassan provided them with the bomb. That lad’s a bit too dedicated.”

β€œBut why,” Ronny blurted. β€œThat’s deliberately interfering with internal affairs. If the word got out, every planet in U.P. would resign.”

β€œProbably no planet in the system that needed a change so badly,” Metaxa growled. β€œIf they were ever going to swing into real progress, that hierarchy of priests had to go.” He snorted. β€œAn immortal God-King, yet.”

Ronny pressed on. β€œThat was bad enough, but how about this planet Mother, where the colonists had attempted to return to nature and live in the manner man did in earliest times.”

β€œMost backward planet in the U.P.,” Metaxa said sourly. β€œThey just had to be roused.”

β€œAnd Kropotkin!” Ronny blurted. β€œDon’t you understand, those people were happy there. Their lives were simple, uncomplicated, and they had achieved a happiness that⁠—”

Metaxa came to his feet. He scowled at Ronny Bronston and growled, β€œUnfortunately, the human race can’t take the time out for happiness. Come along, I want to show you something.”

He swung around the corner of his desk and made his way toward a ceiling-high bookcase.

Ronny stared after him, taken off guard, but Sid Jakes was grinning his amusement.

Ross Metaxa pushed a concealed button and the bookcase slid away to one side to reveal an elevator beyond.

β€œCome along,” Metaxa repeated over his shoulder. He entered the elevator, followed by Jakes.

There was nothing else to do. Ronny Bronston followed them, his face still flushed with the angered argument.

The elevator dropped, how far, Ronny had no idea. It stopped and they emerged into a plain, sparsely furnished vault. Against one wall was a boxlike affair that reminded Ronny of nothing so much as a deepfreeze.

For all practical purposes, that’s what it was. Ross Metaxa led him over and they stared down into its glass-covered interior.

Ronny’s eyes bugged. The box contained the partly charred body of an animal approximately the size of a rabbit. No, not an animal. It had obviously once been clothed, and its limbs were obviously those of a tool using life form.

Metaxa and Jakes were staring down at it solemnly, for once no inane grin on the supervisor’s face. And that of Ross Metaxa was more weary than ever.

Ronny said finally, β€œWhat is it?” But he knew.

β€œYou tell us,” Metaxa growled sourly.

β€œIt’s an intelligent life form,” Ronny blurted. β€œWhy has it been kept secret?”

β€œLet’s go on back upstairs,” Metaxa sighed.

Back in his office he said, β€œNow I go into my speech. Shut up for a while.” He poured himself a drink, not offering one to the other two. β€œRonny,” he said, β€œman isn’t alone in the galaxy. There’s other intelligent life. Dangerously intelligent.”

In spite of himself Ronny reacted in amusement. β€œThat little creature down there? The size of a small monkey?” As soon as he said it, he realized the ridiculousness of his statement.

Metaxa grunted. β€œObviously, size means nothing. That little fellow down there was picked up by one of our Space Forces scouts over a century ago. How long he’d been drifting through space, we don’t know. Possibly only months, but possibly hundreds of centuries. But however long he’s proof that man is not alone in the galaxy. And we have no way of knowing when the expanding human race will come up against this other intelligence⁠—and whoever it was fighting.”

β€œBut,” Ronny protested, β€œyou’re assuming they’re aggressive. Perhaps coming in contact with these aliens will be the best thing that ever happened to man. Possibly that little fellow down there is the most benevolent creature ever evolved.”

Metaxa looked at him strangely. β€œLet’s hope so,” he said. β€œHowever, when found he was in what must have been a one-man scout. He was dead and his craft was blasted and torn⁠—obviously from some sort of weapons’ fire. His scout was obviously a military craft, highly equipped with what could only be weapons, most of them so damaged our engineers haven’t been able to figure them out. To the extent they have been able to reconstruct them, they’re scared silly. No, there’s no two ways about it, our little rabbit sized intelligence down in the vault was killed in an interplanetary conflict. And sooner or later, Ronny, man in his explosion into the stars is going to run into either or both of the opponents in that conflict.”

Ronny Bronston slumped back into his chair, his brain running out a dozen leads at once.

Metaxa and Jakes remained quiet, looking at him speculatively.

Ronny said slowly, β€œThen the purpose of Section G is to push the member planets of U.P. along the fastest path of progress, to get them ready for the eventual, inevitable meeting.”

β€œNot just Section G,” Metaxa growled, β€œbut all of the United Planets organization, although most of the rank and file don’t even know our basic purpose. Section G? We do the dirty work, and are proud to do it, by every method we can devise.”

Ronny leaned forward. β€œBut look,” he said. β€œWhy not simply inform all member planets of this common danger? They’d all unite in the effort to meet the

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