"Let Kelly test it first," murmured Captain Torkel, hating himself again.
Fox stuffed a slice of the yellow food into Kelly's mouth. The fire-haired man gulped and blinked and grinned like a summer sunrise.
"Heaven," he mumbled.
Suddenly Captain Torkel froze. "Wait. Can't you see what these people are trying to do? They can read our minds. They know that we'll probably bring millions and millions of people to their planet, that we'll probably overrun their civilization. They don't want us to go back to Earth. They want us to stay here. They're just pretending—"
He stopped as he saw the bronzed form of Taaleeb towering above him.
"You are wrong," said the Sirian, and it seemed that his smile faded ever so slightly, and a muscle in his cheek twitched almost imperceptibly. "Your thoughts are not good. We will welcome the people of your star—those who survive the long journey. We will be sorry to see you leave so soon. You leave in one day, yes? Then we will try to make your visit pleasant. Now, you must eat and drink. Be gay, my good friends."
Captain Torkel grunted. Reluctantly, he tasted the yellow food. It was delicious as a golden-brown fried chicken on Earth. His mood lightened.
He saw that it wouldn't be necessary to test the wine on Kelly. Lieutenant Washington had already emptied his flagon. It was now being refilled.
"Wine, Captain," said the smiling Sirian. "You must try our wine."