"But most desire more information. Thus our visit. We have come to gather data that will determine your--disposition-- "Your race accepts the principle of extermination. You relentlessly seek and kill for commercial or political advantage. You live in mistrust and envy and threat. Yet, as earthlings, you have power. It is not great, but it contains a threat. We wish now to know the extent of that threat. "Here is the test." Suddenly an image resolved itself on the gleaming metal of the ship itself. _It was a blueprint._ A hundred cameras focused on it. "_Construct this. It is defective. Correct that which renders it not useful. We shall return in three days for your solution._" "Good God!" exclaimed Harrison. "It's a--_sword_!" "A what?" asked Mills. "A sword--people used to chop each other's heads off with them." Almost at once the metal giant was seen to move. Quickly it retraced its path across the apron, remained poised on the center of the runway, then disappeared almost instantaneously. * * * * * The Intersolar Council weathered the storm. The representative of the colony on Venus was recalled, his political life temporarily ended. A vigilante committee did for a time picket the spaceport. But the tremendous emotional outbursts of the first day gradually gave way to a semblance of order. Video speakers, some of them with huge followings, still denounced the ISC for permitting the alien to land in the first place. Others clamored for a fleet to pursue the arrogant visitor. And there were many fools who chose to ignore the implications of the strange speech and its implied threat. Some even thought it was a gigantic hoax. But most men soon came to restore their trust in the scientists of the Intersolar Council. Harrison cast down the long sheet of morning news that had rolled out of the machine. "The fools! They'll play politics right up to the last, won't they?" "What else?" asked Mills. "Playing politics is as good a way as any of avoiding what you can't figure out or solve." "And yet, what the hell are _we_ doing here?" Harrison mused. "Listen to this." He picked up a stapled sheaf of papers from his desk. "'_Analysis of word usage indicates a complete knowledge of the English language_'--that's brilliant, isn't it? '_The ideational content and general semantic tone of the alien speech indicates a relatively high intelligence._ "'_Usage is current, precise...._' Bob, the man who wrote that report is one of the finest semantics experts in the solar system. He's the brain that finally broke that ancient Martian ceremonial language they found on the columns." "Well, mastermind," said Mills. "What will the _Engineering_ report say when you get around to writing it?" "Engineering report? What are you talking about?" "You didn't read the memo on your desk then? The one that requested a preliminary report from every department by 2200 today."