"That would be our thought." The two Thakerns were thinking--and lepping--in fusion. "However," they went on carefully, "it must not be and is not our intent to sway you in any action or decision. While not all of you four, perhaps, are as yet fully mature, not one of you should be subjected to any additional exterior stresses." "I hope you don't think that way about _all_ Primes," Garlock said, grimly. "I'm going to smack some of those kids down so hard that their shirt-tails will roll up their backs like window shades." "If you find such action either necessary or desirable, we will join you quite happily in it. We go." The four remaining Primes looked at each other in puzzled surprise. "_What_ do you think about _that_?" Garlock asked finally, of no one in particular. "I don't understand them," Fao said, "but they're mighty nice people." "Do you suppose, Clee," Belle nibbled at her lower lip, "that we're getting off on the wrong foot with uniforms and admirals and things? That with really adult Primes running things the Galactic Service would run itself? No bosses or anything?" "Umnngk." Garlock grunted as though Belle had slugged him. "I hope not. Or do I? Anyway, not enough data yet to make speculation profitable. But I wonder, Miss Bellamy, if it would be considered an unjustifiable attempt to sway you in any action or decision if I were to suggest--Oh, ever so diffidently!--that if we're going to saddle up our bronks and ride out on roundup tomorrow morning we ought to be logging some sack-time right now?" "Considering the source, as well as and/or in connection with the admittedly extreme provocation," Belle straightened up into a regal pose, "You may say, Mister Garlock, without fear of successful contradiction, that in this instance no umbrage will be taken, at least for the moment." She broke the pose and giggled infectiously. "'Night, you two lovely people!" * * * Belle was still sunny and gay when the _Pleiades_ reached Lizoria; Garlock was inwardly happy and outwardly content. Semolo, however, was his usual intransigent self. In fact, if it had not been for Mirea Mitala, and the fact that she--metaphorically--did pin Semolo's ears back, Garlock would not have taken him aboard at all. Thus, after loading on only one pair of Primes, that auspiciously-beginning day had lost some of its luster; and as the day wore on it got no better fast. Baver of Falne had not learned anything, either--only Garlock's intervention saved the cocky and obstreperous Semolo from a mental blast that would have knocked him out cold. Then there were Onthave and Lerthe of Crenna; Korl and Kirl of Gleer; Parleof and Ginseona of Pasquerone; Atnim and Sotara of Flandoon, and eighty others. Very few of them were as bad as Semolo; some of them, particularly the Pasqueronians and the Gleerans, were almost as good as Delcamp and Fao.