At this Jackson, who had not seemed to be listening, turned around and gave them all the most icy glance they had ever encountered. Then he nodded his head into an angelic smile. Linder, refusing to be cowed, strode to the insolent greeter's side and entered the building ahead of him. A few seconds later he whirled around and came back to the other seven who by now were just about to step into the place. "They've made some kind of movie madhouse of their planetary headquarters!" he muttered, stunned. "Come and see for yourselves." They did. The hall they entered was monumentally vast like all planetary centers, to express the majesty and prestige of its function. It was partially darkened and hundreds of men and women were lounging about on chairs and sofas, talking to each other while looking at the wall at one end of the building. This wall was covered for several hundred yards with blobs rapidly sinking toward the floor and similar patches reappearing near the ceiling while words, mathematical symbols, three-dimensional color patterns and other disconnected symbols streamed in and out of the confusion to add the final touch of chaos. Many of the viewers were also eating and here and there were even young couples necking as they watched the wall. Once in a while somebody seemed to look straight at the party that had entered but the glance was always brief. "This is the limit," Barnes said. "Commander, Council prestige is at stake here." "No, let's try to stay calm," Stern insisted, "we're surrounded by potentially hostile people and--" "Are you afraid?" Barnes taunted him. "You know that's not it," the taller man came back. "I just think we ought to try to find some sense to all this." "I think you _are_ afraid," Linder broke in. "Fine analysis jobs our psychology people are doing these days! They're supposed to weed out every fearmonger _before_ a hyperspace team takes off." He leaned toward Stern, all his frustrations finally achieving a point of focus. "You'll never get another expedition if we make it back. Get this straight--my job isn't primarily to protect our hides. It's to make obvious to our hosts that Glia Council is supreme everywhere, the one, ultimate institution for maintaining stability throughout the Galaxy." Jackson, for the first time, was giving _all_ of his attention to them. "You have a complaint, Commander?" he said. "Why not address it to me? Don't worry about being violently treated. We _want_ you to get back to Terra with the news."