"Neither. This is just a sample of bureaucracy at work. You see, the starfish is classed as a pest on Earth. Confederation regulations forbid the exportation of pests to member planets."
"But we need them!"
"I realize that, but the fact hasn't penetrated to the highest brass." I laughed humorlessly. "The big boys simply can't see it. By the time we marshal enough evidence to convince them, it will be too late. Knowing how Administration operates, I'd say that it'd take at least a year for them to become convinced. And another two months for them to act."
"But we simply can't wait that long! Your man Bergdorf has convinced me. We're in deadly danger!"
"You're going to have to wait," I said grimly. "Unless you can find some way to jar them out of their rut."
Kron looked thoughtful. "I think that can be done, friend Lanceford. As I recall, your bureaus are timid things. Furthermore, we have something they want pretty bad. I think we can apply pressure."
"But won't your people object? Doesn't that deny your basic philosophy of non-interference with others?"
Kron grinned ferociously. "Not at all. Like others of your race, you have never understood the real significance of our social philosophy. What it actually boils down to is simply this—we respect the customs and desires of others but require in turn that they respect ours."
"You mean that you will use force against the rest of the Confederation? But you can't do that! You wouldn't stand a chance against the Navy."
"We will first try a method we have used with our own tribes who get out of line. I don't think anything more will be necessary." Kron's voice was flat. "It goes against the grain to do this, but we are left no choice." He turned and left the room without a farewell, which was a measure of his agitation.