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an agent-instructor to be assigned here with full equipment. Request signed by a First-Contact officer name of Riso . . . off the Delphinus!"
    "But the . . ."
    "Yeah, missing. The routine request was a forgery. And now you see why I'm for rubbing this place. Who'd dare forge such a request unless he knew for sure the original F-C officer was missing . . . or dead?"
    "Stet, what the jumped-up mazoo are we doing here?" Orne demanded. "Alien contact calls for a full team of experts with all the . . ."
    "This one calls for one planet-buster bomb, buster. In five days. Unless you give them a white bill in the meantime. High Commissioner Bullone will have word of this planet by then. If Gienah still exists in five days, can you imagine the fun the politicians'll have with it? Oh, Mamma! Orne, we want this planet cleared for contact or dead before then."
    "We're allowing ourselves to be stampeded," Orne said. "I don't like this.
    Look at what happened on . . ."
    "YOU don't like it!"
    "There has to be another way, Stet. When we teamed up with the Alerinoids we gained five hundred years in the physical sciences alone, not to mention the .
    . ."
    "The Alerinoids didn't knock over one of our survey ships."
    "But what if the Delphinus crashed here? That's a big jungle. If the locals just stumbled onto . . ."
    "That's what you're going to find out, Orne. I hope. You're going to be the answer to their routine request, an R&R agent-instructor. But answer me this, Mister R&R, how long before a tool-using species could be a threat to the Galaxy -- given the information that's in your head?"
    "You saw that city, the size of it. They could be dug in within six months and there'd be no . . ."
    "Yeah."
    Orne shook his head. "But think of it: two civilizations that matured along different lines. Think of all the different ways we'd approach similar problems, the lever that'd give us for . . ."
    "You sound like a Uni-Galacta lecture. Are you through marching arm and arm into the misty future?"
    Orne took a deep breath. He felt that he was being pushed too fast to make rational decisions. He asked: "Why me? You're tossing me into this. Why?"
    "The Delphinus master lists. You'd still be on 'em as an R&R fieldman, full identification, eye pattern, everything. That's important if you're masquerading as . . ."
    "Am I the only one you have? I'm a recent convert to I-A, but . . ."
    "You want out?"
    "I didn't say that. I just want to know why I'm . . ."
    "Because the bigdomes at HQ fed a set of requirements into one of their mechanical monsters. Your name popped out. They were looking for somebody capable, dependable . . . and expendable."
    "Hey!"
    "That's why I'm down here briefing you instead of sitting back on a flagship.
    I got you into the I-A. Now, you listen carefully: If you push the panic button here without cause I will personally flay you. We both know the advantages of an alien contact. But if you get into a really hot spot and call for help, I'll dive this cruiser into that city to get you out. Clear?"
    Orne tried to swallow in a dry throat "Yes. And thanks, Stet, but if . . ."
    "We'll take up a tight orbit. Out beyond us will be five transports full of I-A marines plus a Class DC Monitor with one planet-buster. You're calling the shots, God help you! First, we have to know if they've taken the Delphinus, and if so, where it is. Next, we want to know how warlike these goons are. Can we deal with them? Are they too bloodthirsty? What's their potential?"
    "In five days?"
    "Not a second more."
    "What do we know about them?"
    "Not much. They look something like an ancient Terran chimpanzee, but with blue fur. Face is hairless, pink-skinned." Stetson touched a button at his waist. The translite map above him became a screen with a figure frozen on it. "This is life size."
    "Looks like the famous missing link," Orne said.
    "Yeah, but you've a different kind of link to find."
    "Vertical slit pupil in their eyes," Orne said. He studied the figure