His shoulders sagged. He shuddered. "I will not be able to fight it off. I will have to build a transmitter, call the Rojac and confess!"
"And they will collect another inhabitable place," she said, her voice flat and toneless.
"I've spoiled it," he said. "I've spoiled it!"
—FRANK HERBERT
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction April 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.