For a long, long moment Duwan stared at the sword. The tears blurring his eyes seemed like a film of rust across the bright steel. Then he clashed it back into its sheath.

“I have no choice,” he said. “But when the League breaks its own laws, and employs the filthiest blackmailers to do the job, then justice is dead in the Galaxy.”

* * *

Three days later, Alak’s agreed code call went over the Luanian telescreens. Slinh received it and lifted the stolen car into the air. “Now be quiet,” he told the dirty, tear-faced child with him. “We’re going back to Daddy.” He added to himself “Of course, it’s possible that Daddy had Alak drugged or tortured to give the signal. That’s what I’d have tried. But if so, it’s only what the Patrolman deserves for leaving me in charge of this brat.”

For fear of its radiations revealing his hidden car to searchers—metal detectors were dangerous enough—Slinh had only turned the televisor on for a few seconds at the agreed hours. Now, as he listened to the newscasts, a dawning amazement held him motionless. “Marhal has offered compromise—Premier Voal in secret conference—Secession from League being reconsidered—”

Holy Galaxy! Had Alak really pulled it off? If a crook like that Patrolman, hunted and alone, could overturn a planet—

Slinh set his vehicle down on the lawn of the Premier’s city residence. The force dome was down and only a few military craft were in sight. Peace—

Tranis Voal stood before the house with his arm about his wife’s shoulders. There were no other officials in sight, with the possible exception of Alak. The Patrolman stood to one side, his hair like coppery fire in the sun, the look of a fox who has just raided a chicken coop on his sharp face; but there was somehow a loneliness over him. Though he was the conqueror he was still one man against a world.

Slinh led the child outside. Voal uttered a queer little choking cry and fell on his knees before her. When he looked up, tears gleamed in his eyes and ran down his haggard cheeks. “She’s all right,” he choked. “She’s all right—”

“Of course she’s all right,” said Alak impatiently. “Now that your government has gone too far toward peace to back down, I don’t mind telling you that no matter what your attitude would have been, she wouldn’t have been harmed. Patrolmen may have no scruples, but we aren’t fiends.” He added slowly, somewhat bitterly, “Only a completely honest man, a fanatic or a fool, can be really fiendish.”

Slinh tugged at Alak’s sleeve. “Now will you tell me just what happened?” he hissed.

“What I hoped for,” said Alak. “After you left me on the island and took the kid into hiding, I just waited. That night Voal showed up with the money.”

“Hm-m-m—so you also got a little personal profit out of it,” said the Rassalan slyly.

“I didn’t want his money, I didn’t take it,” said Alak wearily. “The ransom demand was simply a device to make him think a gang of ordinary kidnapers had taken the girl. If he’d known it was the hated and untrustworthy Patrolman who had her, he’d probably have been out of his head with fear and loathing, have brought all the cops on the planet down on me, and…well, this way I got him alone and I had a club over his head. I told him the Patrol couldn’t weigh the life of one child against several million, perhaps billion, and that we’d kill the kid if he didn’t listen to reason. He did. I came here with him, secretly, and used him as my puppet. With his emergency powers, he was able to stop the scheduled assault on Marhal and swing the government toward conciliation. A truce has been declared, and a League mediator is on the way.”