"Tell me, why didn't you recognize me before I joined you in your--ritual, Leader?" The alien tilted his head. "What was there to recognize? We thought you were some new variety of animal. Before you xenogutted how were we to know you were rational life?" Barnhart nodded. "But how did you so cleverly deduce that I was your Master?" "There are one hundred of us. You were the one hundred and first. You had to be the Master returned." The Master had been some friendly lifeform in the Federation, obviously. Otherwise the qurono androids wouldn't speak Galactic. Barnhart nibbled on his under lip. "I want to find out how much you still know after the Master has been away so long," the captain said. "Tell me, how do you communicate with the Master?" "What for?" The Leader began to look at Barnhart oddly. "For anything. Where's the sub-space radio?" The direct approach produced a rather ironic expression on the qurono's narrow face but no answer. But if there was a radio on the planet Barnhart meant to find it. Spacemen forced to abandon their craft were required to report to the nearest Federation base as quickly as possible. Besides, he meant to see that Simmons and his Anglo stooge and all the others paid for their mutiny. But, he decided, perhaps he had better not press the matter at the moment. Another rocket punctuated the moment of silence. "Take me to your launching area," Barnhart said. The android stood up and walked. But he walked at Barnhart's side, forcing the captain to catch his stride a half-step to let the alien lead him. He wasn't sure if it was a mark of respect not to get ahead of the Master or an attempt to see if he knew where the launching site was located. The quronos were limited, but just _how_ limited Barnhart was beginning to wonder. * * * * * They rounded the clump of drooping lavender trees and Barnhart saw the eight men laying on the ground in the transparent casings. Not men, but quronos, he corrected himself; in a molded clear membrane of some sort. "They are in status," the Leader explained, answering the captain's unasked question. "This is how you keep your population at one hundred," Barnhart thought aloud, removing his glasses to rest his eyes and to get a better look at the bodies. Despite regulations he could still see better without his spectacles. "It is how you arranged it, Master. But as you know we are now ninety and one." The captain put his glasses back on. "I'll test you. Why are you now ninety and one?" "Naturally," the Leader said emotionlessly, "you required a whole shelter unit to yourself. We had to dispose of the ten who previously had the unit." Barnhart swallowed. "Couldn't you think of anything less drastic? Next time just build a new unit."