"You'd better get to your quarters and dry off, Lieutenant. And then come to my office. I'd like to talk to you there."
"Yes, sir."
Devall spun sharply and headed back across the clearing to his office. He slammed the door behind him and switched on the autotype. The report to Earth would have to be amended now.
A moment or two after he had finished, the intercom glowed. He turned it on and heard Steber's voice saying, "Sir, the old priest is here. He wants to apologize to you for everything. He's wearing clothing of celebration, and he brought a peace-offering for us."
"Tell him I'll be right out," Devall said. "And call all the men together. Including Dudley. Especially Dudley. I want him to see this."
He slipped off his sweat-stained jacket and took a new one out. Surveying himself in the mirror, he nodded approvingly.
Well, well, he thought. So the boy came through it safely. That's good.
But he knew that the fate of Paul Leonards had been irrelevant all along, except on the sheerly personal level. It was the larger issue that counted.
For the first time, Earth had made a concrete demonstration of the equality-of-intelligent-life doctrine it had been preaching so long. He had shown that he respected the Markin laws in terms of what they were to the Marks, and he had won the affection of a race as a result. Having the boy return unharmed was a bonus.
But the precedent had been set. And the next time, perhaps, on some other world, the outcome might not be so pleasant. Some cultures had pretty nasty ways of putting criminals to death.