"Sorry," Kelly apologized, a broken man.
The brides stepped forward to claim their husbands.
Peace and prosperity came to Mala, under the deft guidance of their Terran leaders. In time, spaceships arrived and departed, but neither man showed any particular desire to board one, for their wives—docile, patient, yet fiery—proved more appealing than the lonely far reaches of space.
Beliakoff sometimes pondered the opportune melting down of their freighter. He was never able to discover who had signed the order. But all Mala knew the saying, "An Earthman is easy to catch, but hard to hold." He wondered whether that had been the true reason behind the order to scrap the ship.
By this time, of course, he didn't really care; if his wife or Kelly's had been responsible, it was all the more reason to feel appreciated.
Nob knew the answer, but he had other things on his mind. He lay awake, restless, until his wife asked worriedly what was wrong.
"I've been wondering," he said. "Those war books that the Earthmen had us turn in—I never did understand why all those deletions were made. You know, the ones that made us figure out a way of deciding which side won."
"But the Earthmen said they used the very same system," she reminded him. "And they wouldn't lie, would they?"
"They would, if it was for our good. That's what is known as diplomacy, dear. Statesmanship. Or politics. Interchangeable terms."