The colonel gave him a long, level look. "I consider that remark in the worst of taste." Clarey stopped laughing. "Remember," the colonel reminded Clarey, again unnecessarily, "this is the way we ourselves got started." "But the Damorlanti don't have to move in the same direction. They may look human and even act human, but they don't think human." The colonel clasped his hands behind his head and sighed. "There have been articles against us in the paper, and whenever we go out in the street people--natives, I mean--make nasty remarks and sometimes even faces at us. And what have we done to them? Carefully minded our own business, avoided all cultural contacts except for trade purposes, paid them much more than the going price for their goods, and gave them one or two tips on health and sanitation. As a result, they're beginning to hate us." "But if you send a report, it'll bring the staff ship in ahead of time. Maybe the whole thing'll blow over. This way, you're not giving it a chance to." The colonel chewed his lip. "Well," he finally said, "I might as well wait and see if the rumor's verified before I report it." * * * * * Clarey went back to Katund. The months went by. The friendly atmosphere in the Furbush had vanished, and not as many people stopped and chatted when they came to the library. But there wasn't any actual incident until the evening Clarey was walking home after late night at the library and a stone struck him between the shoulder-blades. "Dirty Earthman!" a voice called, and several pairs of feet scuttled off. He didn't mention the incident to Embelsira, not wanting to worry her, but the next morning he went to the Village Dome and informed Malesor. "Very bad," the headman muttered. "_Very_ bad. Whoever did it will be punished." "You won't be able to catch them," Clarey said, "and there'd be no point in punishment, anyway. Look at it like this, Mal. Suppose I had been an Earthman, don't you see how dangerous this would be, not for me but for you? Can't you imagine the inevitable results?" Malesor nodded. "The Earthmen's catapults do go farther and faster, then?" "And maybe deeper," Clarey agreed, pretending not to notice that it had been a question. "After the way Irik talked, I couldn't help drifting over to the starfield when I was in Barshwat and watching an Earth ship come. You've no idea how incredibly powerful a thing it was. Anyone who has power in one direction is likely to have it in another." "I wonder if the Earthmen always had power," Malesor mused, "if they weren't like us once. If, given time, we couldn't be like them...." Clarey didn't say anything. Malesor's pale face turned gray. "You mean we might not be given time?" Clarey wiggled his ears. "Who can tell what's in the mind of an Earthman?" Malesor looked directly at him. "Why do you tell me this?" "Because I'm one of you," Clarey said stoutly.