"Yes," Gene Gibson said, "he's really an exceptional individual. A wealth of administrative experience. A fine grasp of practical politics. I don't regard him as a typical Itraian at all. He feels that, with us backing him, we can get this whole mess straightened out in a few months." "Mess?" "Well, you must admit, I think, Captain Shaeffer, that you did--well--make negotiations extremely difficult, in view of the, ah, present temper of the populace. "You see, Earth would like to have a stable and responsible government. A government, that is, which can see larger issues in perspective. Not one which must devote its full time to coping with a group of unpatriotic anarchists running loose in the streets." "What's he saying?" Ge-Ge asked. "As it is now," Gene Gibson continued, "we do have several rather difficult problems. I think we'll probably have to quarantine Itra for a few months until the Party Leader himself can form a stable organizational structure. Somehow news of our trade discussions have leaked out and for some reason has resulted in a general work stoppage. So you see? By God, I'll just come right out and say it: Shaeffer, you've left us one hell of a mess!" With that, Gene Gibson departed. "What did he say?" Ge-Ge asked meekly. But Shaeffer only shook his head. The following day, the ship's captain came to pay a courtesy call. "A very neat piece of work, Merle. Your new assignment just came in, by the way, on the space radio." "New assignment? Ge-Ge and I are on our way back to Earth." "No, you're not. We're to drop you off at Midway for transhipment to Folger's Hill. It's a new planet. You're to be Earth representative to the people of Folger's Hill. The first shipload of colonists arrived about a month ago." "I see," Capt. Shaeffer said. "The salary's good," the ship's captain said. "Suppose I don't want to go?" "I've got orders to leave you at Midway. I'd want to go if I were you. They want you out of the way for a little while. You can't fight it. You've been appointed a General in the Defense Forces, so you're now under military law--and it's an order." At this point, Ge-Ge broke in to say, "How are things going in Xxla?" General Shaeffer choked back his anger and presented the question. "They don't tell us anything. The crew is confined to the ship." Shamar the Worker turned to Ge-Ge. "It's going about the same," he said. * * * * * A year later, General Merle S. Shaeffer's card popped out of the computer. "General Shaeffer's up for re-assignment." "Who in hell is General Shaeffer?" "Never heard of him." The card passed upward. "Merle Shaeffer is due for re-assignment," a man who knew the name told the Secretary of the Over Council at lunch the following day. "There's a new planet opened up even further away than Folger's Hill." "He's the one who butchered the Itra assignment? Send him there. Anything new from Itra recently, by the way?"