"Try to get near her, Judge! You'll get proof fast enough!" "Well ... about the cargo, then?" "_That's_ where he's gouging me!" exploded Voorhis. "The idea of using the cost as of loading on Rigel IX! Hell, you know the margin of profit there is in trading on these new planets, twenty to one at least. I figured to lift off with four million worth of ores, gems, curios, and whatnot." "So your point is that the mere transportation of the goods through space to this planet increased their value. What about that, Mr. Melin?" Melin shifted uncomfortably on his bench. Mayne would have liked to change his own position, but feared splinters. "There is an element of truth in that," admitted Melin. "Still, it would be rash to expect such a return every time a tramp spaceship lands to swap with some aboriginal easy marks." "I suppose," said Mayne, "that our orange-eyed friends speak no Terran?" "I hope not!" exclaimed Voorhis. "Well, anyway," Melin said after a startled pause, "how can we be expected to pay off on hopes? He wants the paper figure for the ship; but he refuses the paper figure for the cargo." Mayne shrugged. He turned to Haruhiku. "If Captain Voorhis and Mr. Melin don't mind, lieutenant, I'd like to get the chief's view of all this." "Hah!" grunted Voorhis, clapping both hands to his head. Melin contented himself with rolling his eyes skyward. With Haruhiku translating, Mayne began to get acquainted with the Kappans. The visitor from the neighboring city chose mostly to listen attentively, but Igrillik, the priest, occasionally leaned over to whisper sibilantly into Eemakh's recessed ear. Mayne fancied he saw a resemblance between the two, despite Igrillik's professional trappings--a long robe of rough material that had been dyed in stripes and figures of several crude colors, and a tall cap to which were attached a number of pairs of membraneous wings. [Illustration] The first thing that Mayne learned was that the _Gemsbok_ was not a spaceship; it was a symbol, a sign sent to the Kappans by the great god Meeg. "And why did he send it?" asked Mayne. He had sent it as a sign that he was impatient with his children. They had vowed him a temple, they had set aside the necessary land, and yet they had not begun the work. "Is that why they're all over there, slaving away so feverishly?" It was indeed the reason. After all, Meeg was the god of the inner moon, the one that passed so speedily across the sky. If he could guide the strangers' ship directly to his own plot of ground, he might just as easily have caused it to land in the center of the village. They had seen the flames that attended the landing. Could the honored chief from the stars blame them for heeding the warning? "I see their point," muttered Mayne resignedly. "Well, maybe we can talk sense about the cargo. Tell them that there is much in the holds that would make their lives richer. Tools, gems, fine cloth--give them the story, lieutenant."