"Yes.... But I do anthropology, too. Medical help—ah—gains the confidence of the people...."
"You mean—?" Chet was at first incredulous, then outraged. "You mean you're not going to punish them?"
"That's right," Dr. Pine said, smiling.
"That's wrong!" Chet contradicted.
Cheeks burning, he turned to Commander Seymour. "How about you, sir? Do you want your men chained to a post if they get captured? Do you want me to dismiss three years of torture as a mistake, or something? Do you want—"
"Here, here!" Commander Seymour said. He didn't raise his voice. But as he rose from the cot, Chet rose with him, and found himself at attention. They eyed each other.
"Relax," Dr. Pine suggested. "Please sit down—both of you."
Commander Seymour obeyed his subordinate. But Chet, still standing, still angry, turned hotly on the doctor.
"I can't just sit and let you talk about rewarding the Agvars for torturing me!" he cried. "We don't have to appease them—they can't fight. You don't have to be afraid—"
"That'll do, Barfield!" Commander Seymour was on his feet again, and his tone was sharp. It quieted Chet instantly.