"Very well, Mr. Marshall," he said. "I'll be blunt. It's occurred to me that if the date on your claim were changed, the land would naturally be yours. The difficulty of course lies in the fact that there are duplicate records on Terra and we'd have to take care of the man who handles them. Otherwise the discrepancy would show up eventually. Actually, I want nothing for myself but these people in Washington--" "Yeah, I know," Claude interrupted. "It's someone else who's getting the money. It's _always_ someone else who's getting the money." "It would take quite a bit, I'm afraid," the Director said ignoring the sarcasm. "How much?" The Director stubbed out the end of his cigar. "About five thousand," he said. "Yes. Five thousand ought to do it." Claude looked at his wife. And she looked back at him. Outside, Billy had tired of the seven-year-old magazine and was hammering on the door for admittance. "Can we have a few minutes to think it over?" Claude said. "Certainly," Stubbs said amiably. "And I want to make it quite clear, Mr. Marshall, that this money is not for me. There's this fellow--" "Yeah, I know. There's this fellow in Washington. Come on Joan. Let's step outside a moment." * * * * * Ten minutes later, Leon Stubbs answered their knock and ushered them to the desk chairs. After they were seated, he said: "I take it you've talked it over." Claude nodded. "Yes, Mr. Stubbs. My wife and I talked it over and we came to a decision." "I'm glad," the Director said. "And may I say I think you're doing a wise thing. Centifor's a beautiful place. Simply beautiful...." "Yes it is," Claude agreed. "It is beautiful. That's why we'd like to see it stay that way." The Director raised an eyebrow. "My wife and I talked it over," Claude went on, "and we decided that taking someone else's land whether it's done by theft, force, or bribery is wrong. We thought of this place as something fresh and clean. We thought all those tests we took were designed to keep people like you out of here. Now it appears we were mistaken. We've talked it over, Mr. Stubbs, and we've decided to go back to Earth and expose you." "But you can't," the Director said. "You've--" "Yes we can," Claude said. "The ships go back practically empty. A return berth will be no trouble at all. We're returning on the first ship out." "Perhaps we could make a better deal," Stubbs said. "Perhaps five thousand is too much. Perhaps--" "No. No deals! Let's go Joan." They went outside, into the fresh warm sunshine, staring at the torpedo shaped spaceship standing in the clearance area half-a-mile away. They'd just started toward it, when a jeep squealed up alongside them. Bruce Whiting was at the wheel. "Hi," he said. "Hop in. I'll give you a lift." "Thanks," Claude said without bitterness. He helped his wife and son into the rear seat and climbed in beside the driver.