“I wouldn’t concern myself with-that. As a firm believer in Individual Mutualism I would never harm another.”

“But your army—or your police would!” I said, trickily.

“I know the words, of course, but you need not fear. There is no army here, nor do we have a police force. May I offer you some refreshments? I am being a very bad host.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” I muttered. “Sergeant, get a connection to General Lowender’s staff. Tell them we have made contact with the enemy. No sign of resistance. Informant says no armed forces, no police.” Closely watched by my gun-gripping troops, Stirner had opened a cabinet and removed a tall and interesting bottle. He set this on a table along with a tray of glasses.

“Wine,” he said. “A very good one, for special guests. I hope you and your associates will enjoy it.” He handed me a glass.

“You taste it first,” I said with military suspicion.

“Your politeness, nameless sir, puts me to shame.” He sipped then passed me a glass. It was very good.

“Got the general himself,” the sergeant called out urgently, running over with the radio. “Captain Drem speaking.”

“Drem—what does this report mean? Have you found the enemy?”

“I’ve occupied the generating plant, sir. No casualties.

. No resistance encountered.”

“You are the first to make contact. What are their defenses like?”

“Nonexistent, general. No resistance was offered of any kind. My prisoner states no military, no police.” The general made noises of disbelief. “I’m sending a chopper for you and the prisoner. I want to question him myself. Out.”

Wonderful. The last place I wanted to be was with the top brass. There was too good a chance of General Zennor appearing and recognizing me from the bad old days when he was known as Garth. Self-survival urged me to climb into a hole. But weighed against my personal needs was the chance that I might be able to save lives. If I could convince the military numbskulls that there really would be no resistance. If I didn’t do that, surely some triggerhappy cagal-kopf was sure to get nervous and start firing. All of his jumpy buddies would then join in and… It was a very realistic scenario. I had to make some effort to avoid it.

“An order from the general,” I told my expectant troops. “I’m to bring him the prisoner. Transport is on the way, You are in charge. Sergeant Blogh, until Lieutenant Hesk gets here to relieve you. Take over. And take care of the

He saluted and they were grabbing for the bottle when I left. Would such simple military pleasures were mine.

“You’re coming with me,” I told Stirner, pointing toward the door.

“No, my duty is here. I am afraid I cannot oblige you.”

“It is not me you are going to oblige, it is your own people. There is a big army out there. All of them armed with weapons like this. They are now invading your country and are taking it over. People could be killed. But lives can be saved if I take you to the commanding officer and you manage to convince jiim there will be no resistance from your people. Do you understand me?”

A look of horror had been growing on his face as I talked. “You are serious?” he gasped. “You mean what you are saying.” I nodded grimly. “Of course, then, yes. Incomprehensible, but I must come. I can’t believe this.”

“The feeling is mutual.” I led him to the door. “I can understand not having an army, all civilized worlds get by without the military. But the police, a necessary evil I would say.”

“Not for those who practice Individual Mutualism.” He was brightening up now at this chance to deliver a little lecture.

“I never heard of it. “

“How unfortunate for you! At the risk of simplifying I will explain…”

“Captain Drem, I got to talk to you!” the fallen corporal said, climbing out of the command car despite Morton’s feeble efforts to stop him. He stopped in front of me, snapped to attention and saluted.

“I now see the error of my ways, sir. I thought because you are young and looked weak that I knew better than you, so I disobeyed an order and loaded my gun. I know now that I was wrong and you were right and I respectfully request a second chance since I am a thirty-year man and the army is my career.”

“And how do you know now that I was right. Private Aspya?”

He looked at me, eyes aglow. “Because you beat me,

sir! Knocked me down, fair and square. A man gotta do what a man gotta do—and you did it!”

What kind of macho-cagal was this? He had disobeyed a reasonable command that was aimed at avoiding violence. Only when I had hashed him unconscious did he feel that I was right. The mind reeled at this kind of perverse, inverted logic—and I really didn’t have time to think about it. About all I could do was play along and forget about it.

“You know, ex-corporal, I think that I believe you. It takes a real man to admit that he was wrong. So even though you are a miserable low private and I am an on-high captain—I’m going to shake your hand and send you back to duty!”

“You’re a real man, captain, and you will never regret this!” He pumped away at my hand, then staggered off knuckling a tear from his eye. There was a growing clatter from the sky and shadow drifted across us and I looked up to see the chopper dropping down toward us.

“Morton—you’re in charge until I get back. Go to Sergeant Blogh and take command and let him make all the decisions and then agree with him.”

He could only nod as I guided Stirner to the chopper and climbed in behind him.

“Take us to the general,” I ordered the pilot. Then sighed heavily. I had the feeling that I was putting my head into the noose and settling it nicely around my neck. But, really, I had no other choice.

“I have read of such vehicles in the history books,” Stirner said, looking out of the window with admiration as we rattled skyward. “This is a very important moment for me, nameless sir.”

“Captain, you can call me captain.”

“My pleasure to meet you, Captain. And thank you for the opportunity to explain to your leaders that they may come in ‘peace. They must not be afraid. We would never harm them.”

“It was the other way around that I was worried about.” There was no more time for gossip because the chopper was dropping down beside an armored column of tanks. Tables, armchairs, and a wet bar, had been set up under a tent in the field close by, and we settled down just out of rotor-blast of the officers assembled there. I jumped down, delivered a snappy salute and relaxed. Zennor wasn’t there. I turned and helped Stirner get out and pushed him toward General Lowender.

“This is the prisoner, sir. He speaks a vile local language which I just happened to have learned in school so I can translate.”

“Impossible,” he said gri~y. “You are an infantry offi-

cer, not a translator. Major Kewsel is the staff translator. Major, translate!”

The dark-haired major shouldered me aside and stood before the prisoner.

“Kton ci komprenas?” he shouted. “Sprechten zee Poopish? Ancay ooyay eekspay lgpay Atinlay? Ook kook Volupook?”

“Very sorry, sir, but I don’t understand a word that you are saying.”

“Got him!” the major announced happily. “A little-known •dialect, spoken on dreary planets trundling heavily around dark stars. I learned its boring cacophonies when I was involved in the meat trade years ago. Importing porcuswine cutlets…”

“Cut the cagal, major, and translate. Ask him where the army is and how many police stations there are in this city.”

I listened with some interest as the major, despite his inborn desire to talk and not listen, finally elicited the same information that I had. The general sighed unhappily.

“If this is true—then we just can’t shoot them down in cold blood.” He turned to me. “And you are positive there was no resistance offered?”