"Another mistake of the experts," said Kielgaard. "The highest authorities on Truth strongly suspected something was wrong with the protective field around the control center. This made them fearful that the scientific device to halt the flow of time hadn't worked either. This would have been a terrible catastrophe, so by a set of rationalizations that would do credit to a bunch of habitual liars, they evaded the whole issue. The experts and I made the mistake of drawing the logical conclusion. I'm glad it wasn't so." "What happened to Trans-Space?" Kielgaard stopped looking sad and smiled a smile of deep satisfaction. "Galactic has its contract with this planet. Trans-Space is in a very anemic condition. The Truthians don't like people who lie, and they always settle their accounts very strictly." Kielgaard's face subsided into its gloomy look. Dan said, "What's wrong?" "Well," said Kielgaard, "you see, you're a planetary hero for settling that business with Trans-Space. Also, you have--let's see"--he took out a slip of paper--"the equivalent of around six hundred thousand dollars spending money for cleaning out those apes, plus--I don't know how to translate this--six thousand mating credits. They have a weird system for romance, and these credits--" Dan grinned. "Envious?" "It isn't that," said Kielgaard. "I'm thinking how I'd feel in your place. These Truthians don't have any give in their system. Right's right, and wrong's wrong, and they hand out rewards and punishments irrespective of persons." There was a sharp rap at the door. Dan tried to sit up, but he was still too weak. Kielgaard said sadly, "I tried to reason with them, but I might as well have talked to a wall." "Listen," said Dan, becoming alarmed. "What's wrong?" "I don't have the heart to tell you," said Kielgaard. * * * * * Picking up a large briefcase, he said, "Do what you think best. I might mention that we're giving you a bonus, though I suppose that's no consolation." The rap at the door was repeated and there were sounds of arguments outside. "What's in that briefcase?" said Dan. "A big version of the kind of mataform transceiver you used. There's a dreadnaught of ours orbiting the planet with another transceiver like this on board. The key word, in case you should have use for it, is 'Krakior.'" The door burst open and three men came in, arguing with a man in a white jacket. "That doesn't matter," said the first man, a familiar-looking individual who was opening a square case with carrying handle. "The only question is, was it or was it not an unauthorized kill, and is this the man? We have our checker set up to answer this question and that's all there is to it." He glanced at Dan. "Hold out your fingertips, please, and touch those plates. Purely a routine check." Behind the man with the case were two men with armbands and shields. One glanced disinterestedly at Dan and cocked his gun.