"Put through a subradio solido to Earth for me, immediately. To
Director Thornton at the E-T Department. And yell for me when you've
made contact."
It took twenty minutes for the subspace impulse to leap out across
the light-years and find a receiver on Earth, ten minutes more for it
to pass through the relay point and on to Rio. Devall returned to the
shack to find the lambent green solido field in tune and waiting for
him. He stepped through and discovered himself standing a few feet
before the desk of the E-T Department's head. Thornton's image was
sharp, but the desk seemed to waver at the edges. Solid non-organic
objects always came through poorly.
Quickly Devall reviewed the situation. Thornton sat patiently,
unmoving, till the end of it; hands knotted rigidly, lean face set, he
might have been a statue. Finally he commented, "Unpleasant business."
"Quite."
"The alien is returning tomorrow, you say? I'm afraid that doesn't give
us much time to hold a staff meeting and explore the problem, Colonel
Devall."
"I could probably delay him a few days."
Thornton's thin lips formed a tight bloodless line. After an instant
he said, "No. Take whatever action you deem necessary, Colonel. If
the psychological pattern of the race is such that unfortunate
consequences would result if you refused to allow them to try your man,
then you must certainly turn him over. If the step can be avoided, of
course, avoid it. The man must be punished in any case."
The director smiled bleakly. "You're one of our best men, Colonel. I'm
confident you'll arrive at an ultimately satisfactory resolution to
this incident."
"Thank you, sir," Devall said, in a dry, uncertain voice. He nodded and
stepped back out of field range. Thornton's image seemed to flicker;
Devall caught one last dismissing sentence, "Report back to me when the
matter is settled," and then the field died.
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!"