Murgatroyd interposed with another shrill; "_Chee!_" Then Calhoun pulled the Med Ship slowly away from the clump of still-lifeless grain-ships. It was highly improbable that the guard-boat would carry an electron telescope. Most likely it would have only an echo-radar, and so could determine only that an object of some sort moved of its own accord in space. Calhoun let the Med Ship accelerate. That would be final evidence. The grain-ships were between Weald and its sun. Even electron telescopes on the ground--and electron-telescopes were ultimately optical telescopes with electronic amplification--even electron telescopes on the ground could not get a good image of the ship through sunlit atmosphere. "_Chee?_" asked Murgatroyd solicitously. "_Chee-chee-chee?_" "_Is it blueskins?_" shakily demanded the voice from the guard-boat. "_Ground! Ground! Is it blueskins?_" A heavy, authoritative voice came in with much greater volume. "_That's no human voice_," it said harshly. "_Approach its ship and send back an image. Don't fire first unless it heads for ground._" The guard-ship swerved and headed for the Med Ship. It was still a very long way off. "_Chee-chee_," said Murgatroyd encouragingly. Calhoun changed the Med Ship's course. The guard-ship changed course too. Calhoun let it draw nearer,--but only a little. He led it away from the fleet of grain-ships. He swung his electron telescope on them. He saw a space-suited figure outside one,--safely roped, however. It was easy to guess that someone had meant to return to the Med Ship for orders or to make a report, and found the Med Ship gone. He'd go back inside and turn on a communicator. "_Chee!_" said Murgatroyd. The heavy voice boomed; "_You there! This is a human-occupied world! If you come in peace, cut your drive and let our guard-ship approach!_" Murgatroyd replied in an interested but doubtful tone. The booming voice bellowed. Another voice of higher authority took over. Murgatroyd was entranced that so many people wanted to talk to him. He made what for him was practically an oration. The last voice spoke persuasively and suavely. "_Chee-chee-chee-chee_," said Murgatroyd. One of the grain-ships flickered and ceased to be. It had gone into overdrive. Another. And another. Suddenly they began to flick out of sight by twos and threes. "_Chee_," said Murgatroyd with a note of finality. The last grain-ship vanished. "Calling guard-ship," said Calhoun drily. "This is Med ship Aesclipus Twenty. I called here a couple of weeks ago. You've been talking to my _tormal_, Murgatroyd." A pause. A blank pause. Then profanity of deep and savage intemperance. "I've been on Dara," said Calhoun. Dead silence fell. "There's a famine there," said Calhoun deliberately. "So the grain-ships you've had in orbit have been taken away by men from Dara--blueskins if you like--to feed themselves and their families. They've been dying of hunger and they don't like it."