He stood out in the room, seeming to fill it with his strong, forbidding presence. In spite of coming from a world of higher gravity and lower temperature, the Skontarans were a huge race, over two meters tall and so broad that they seemed stocky. They could be classed as humanoid, in that they were bipedal mammals, but there was not much resemblance beyond that. Under a wide, low forehead and looming eyebrow ridges, the eyes of Skorrogan were fierce and golden, hawk’s eyes. His face was blunt-snouted, with a mouthful of fangs in the terrific jaws; his ears were blunt and set high on the massive skull. Short brown fur covered his muscular body to the end of the long restless tail, and a ruddy mane flared from his head and throat. In spite of the, to him, tropical temperature, he wore the furs and skins of state occasions at home, and the acrid reek of his sweat hung about him.

“You are late,” said one of the ministers with thin politeness. “I trust you were not detained by any difficulties.”

“No, I underestimated the time needed to get here,” answered Skorrogan. “Please to excuse me.” He did not sound at all sorry, but lowered his great bulk into the nearest chair and opened his portfolio. We have business now, my sirs?”

“Well…I suppose so.” Dalton sat down at the head of the long conference table. “Though we are not too concerned with facts and figures at this preliminary discussion. We want simply to agree on general aims, matters of basic policy.”

“Naturally, you will wish a full account of the available resources of Avaiki and Skang as well as the Allanian colonies,” said Vahino in his soft voice. ‘‘The agriculture of Cundaloa, the mines of Skontar, will contribute much even at this early date, and, of course, in the end there must be economic self-sufficiency.”

“It is a question of education, too,” said Dalton. “We will send many experts, technical advisers, teachers—”

“And, of course, some question of military resources will arise—” began the Chief of Staff.

“Skontar have own army,” snapped Skorrogan. “No need of talk there yet.”

“Perhaps not,” agreed the Minister of Finance mildly. He took out a cigarette and lit it.

“Please, sir!” For a moment Skorrogan’s voice rose to a bull roar., “No smoke. You know Skontarans allergic to tobacco—”

“Sorry!” The Minister of Finance stubbed out the cylinder. His hand shook a little and he glared at the envoy. There had been little need for concern, the air-conditioning system swept the smoke away at once. And in any case—you don’t shout at a cabinet minister. Especially when you come to ask him for help—

“There will be other systems involved,” said Dalton hastily, trying with a sudden feeling of desperation to smooth over the unease and tension. “Not only the colonies of Sol. I imagine your two races will be expanding beyond your own triple system, and the resources made available by such colonization—”