“Er—there’s just one matter.” Crysteel hesitated slightly. “It’s quite obvious from their broadcasts that the social system is very primitive, and that crime and lawlessness are widespread. Many of the wealthier citizens have to use what are called ‘detectives’ or ‘special agents’ to protect their lives and property. Now we know it’s against regulations, but we were wondering…”
“What?”
“Well, we’d feel much safer if we could take a couple of Mark III disrupters with us.”
“Not on your life! I’d be court-martialled if they heard about it at the Base. Suppose you killed some of the natives—then I’d have the Bureau of Interstellar politics, the Aborignes Conservancy Board, and half a dozen others after me.”
“There’d be just as much trouble if we got killed,” Crysteel pointed out with considerable emotion. “After all, you’re responsible for our safety. Remember that radio play I was telling you about? It described a typical household, but there were two murders in the first half hour!”
“Oh, very well. But only a Mark II—we don’t want you to do too much damage if there is trouble.”
“Thanks a lot; that’s a great relief. I’ll report every thirty minutes as arranged. We shouldn’t be gone more than a couple of hours.”
Captain Wyxtpthll watched them disappear over the brow of the hill. He sighed deeply.
“Why,” he said, “of all the people in the ship did it have to be those two?”
“It couldn’t be helped,” answered the pilot. “All these primitive races are terrified of anything strange. If they saw us coming, there’d be general panic and before we knew where we were the bombs would be falling on top of us. You just can’t rush these things.”