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Updated: July 24, 2025
Calhoun showed her how to punch the readier for such-and-such dishes, to be extracted from storage and warmed or chilled, as the case might be, and served at dialed-for intervals. Calhoun deliberately immersed himself in the Galactic Directory, looking up the planet Orede. He was headed there, but he'd had no reason to inform himself about it before.
"To the contrary," said Calhoun, "there'll undoubtedly be a fleet heading for Orede as soon as it can be assembled and armed. But I'm afraid that's not a very good story. Try another." She shivered a little. "I'm running away ..." "Ah!" said Calhoun. "In that case I'll take you back." "No!" she said fiercely. "I'll I'll die first! I'll wreck this ship first!" Her hand came from behind her.
And there's been no check of what men were in the ship and what men weren't. You wouldn't go to Orede if it were likely your sweetheart had died on the way to you. Here's your coffee. Sugar or saccho, and do you take cream?" She trembled a little, but she took the cup. "I don't understand."
He was satisfied, so much so that immediately afterward he yawned and yawned and barely managed to stagger off to bed. The watching guard in the Med Ship watched him in amazement. That night the ship from Orede came in, packed with frozen bloody carcasses of cattle. Calhoun knew nothing of it. But next morning Maril came back.
And naturally there were animals. There were even trees of severely practical design, and underbrush and ground-cover equivalent to grass. There was, in short, a perfectly predictable ecological system on Orede.
But it looks like miners saw men hunting, and got close enough to see they were blueskins, and then got back to the mine with the news!" She waited for him to explain. "I know I'm guessing, but it fits!" he said distastefully. "So something had to be done. Either the mining settlement had to be wiped out or the story that blueskins were on Orede had to be discredited. The blueskins tried for both.
Calhoun hoped desperately that preparations for active warfare or massacre did not move fast on Weald. He believed, however, that in the absence of direct news from Dara, Wealdian officials would take the normal course of politicos. They had proclaimed the deathship from Orede an attack from Dara. Therefore they would specialize on defensive measures before plumping for offense.
He pointed to Murgatroyd. The girl did not move. Her eyes went from Murgatroyd to Calhoun. "And now," said Calhoun, "do you want to tell me your story? You have one ready, I'm sure." "There there isn't any," said the girl unsteadily. "Just I I need to get to Orede, and you're going there. There's no other way to go now."
His young students took command in four-hour watches, with at least one breakout from overdrive in each watch. He built up enthusiasm in them. They ignored the discomfort of being hungry, though there had been no reason for them to stint on food in Orede in growing pride in what they came to know.
The Darians who'd stampeded the cattle took them prisoners. They had to!" "True," said Calhoun. "It wouldn't have been wise to leave Wealdians around on Orede with their throats cut. Or living, either, to tell about a rumor of blueskins. Even if their throats will be cut now. Is that the program?" Maril shivered. "No. They'll be put on short rations like everybody else. And people will watch them.
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