He stood alone in the shabby communications shack, blinking out the sudden darkness that rolled in over him after the solidophone's intense light, and after a moment began to pick his way over the heaps of equipment and out into the compound. It was as he had expected. Thornton was a good man, but he was a civilian appointee, subject to government control. He disliked making top-level decisions--particularly when a colonel a few hundred light-years away could be pitchforked into making them for him. _Well_, he thought, _at least I notified Earth. The rest of the affair is in my hands._ Significantly, there was a red sunset again that night. * * * * * He called a meeting of his top staff men for 0915 the following morning. Work at the base had all but suspended; the linguistics team was confined to the area, and Devall had ordered guards posted at all exits. Violence could rise unexpectedly among even the most placid of alien peoples; it was impossible to predict the moment when a racial circuit-breaker would cease to function and fierce hatred burst forth. They listened in silence to the tapes of Leonards' statements, Meyer's comments, and the brief interview Devall had had with the five aliens. Devall punched the cut-off stud and glanced rapidly round the table at his men: two majors, a captain, and a quartet of lieutenants comprised his high staff, and one of the lieutenants was confined to quarters. "That's the picture. The old high priest is showing up here about noon for my answer. I thought I'd toss the thing open for staff discussion first." Major Dudley asked for the floor. He was a short, stocky man with dark flashing eyes, and on several occasions in the past had been known to disagree violently with Devall on matters of procedure. Devall had picked him for four successive trips, despite this; the colonel believed in diversity of opinion, and Dudley was a tremendously efficient organizer as well. "Major?" "Sir, it doesn't seem to me that there's any question of what action to take. It's impossible to hand Leonards over to them for trial. It's--un-Earthlike!" Devall frowned. "Would you elaborate, Major?" "Simple enough. We're the race who developed the space-drive--therefore, we're the galaxy's most advanced race. I think that goes without saying." "It does not," Devall commented. "But go ahead." Scowling, Dudley said, "Regardless of your opinion, _sir_--the aliens we've encountered so far have all regarded us as their obvious superiors. I don't think that can be denied--and I think it can only be attributed to the fact that we _are_ their superiors. Well, if we give up Leonards for trial, it cheapens our position. It makes us look weak, spineless. We--" "You're suggesting, then," Devall broke in, "that we hold the position of overlords in the galaxy--and by yielding to our serfs, we may lose all control over them. Is this your belief, Major?" Devall glared at him.