"But you—you must have a disk!" The Vininese was suddenly frightened. "There is no tourist stamp on your arm. I don't understand."
"Paul Sorgel loaned me his when I left Agron." Dirrul felt in his tunic pocket. "He said I was to give it to the Chief when I made my report but if you must see it now—"
"No, no—by all means, keep it." The tall man's voice was pleasant again. "I was simply afraid that someone might have come who—but it is nothing. I am weary from all this vigilance against the vagabonds. It is hard to think realistically."
"I was surprised to see so much lawlessness on Vinin."
"Then you're very naive, my friend. There's an element like that among all people, although I must admit ours here have suddenly become excessively active. Their attacks are so systematic and so well-organized! Hardly a night passes without trouble at a work camp or a transmitter station.
"Your transmitters are different from ours. Have you developed an improvement in technique?"
"They are, curious, aren't they? You must ask the Chief to tell you all about them." The Vininese chuckled with delight. "I wouldn't want to spoil his surprise by letting you in on the secret first."
VII
The Vininese drove Dirrul to the city in a heavily armed surface car. Two of the infantrymen sat behind them, their rocket guns ready on their knees. It was testimony to the efficiency and organization of Vinin that such a finished reception could be prepared on such short notice. Dirrul's first intimation of the scope of the ceremony came when they stopped at a school to be cheered by the pupils.
Rank upon rank of boys and girls lined up smartly behind the high wire fence. They ranged in ages from tots, barely able to stand, to young people in late adolescence. Except for the round metal disks, which all of them wore, they were completely naked.