“I’ve had a number of offers,” said Donal. “But I was thinking of accepting one from the Joint Church Council of Harmony and Association. Their Chief Elder’s offered me the position of War Chief for both the Friendlies.”

“Eldest Bright? He’s driven every commander with a spark of independence away from him.”

“I know,” said Donal. “And just for that reason I expect to shine the more brightly. It should help build my reputation.”

“By—Galt swore softly. “Always thinking, aren’t you?”

“I suppose you’re right,” said Donal, a trifle unhappily. “It comes of being born with a certain type of mind.”

WAR CHIEF

The heels of his black boots clicking against the gray floor of the wide office of the Defense Headquarters on Harmony, the aide approached Donal’s desk.

“Special, urgent and private, sir.” He placed a signal tape in the blue shell of ordinary communications on the desk pad.

“Thank you,” said Donal, and waved him off. He broke the seal on the tape, placed it in his desk unit, and—waiting until the aide had left the room—pressed the button that would start it.

His father’s voice came from the speaker, deep-toned.

“Donal, my son—

“We were glad to get your last tape; and to hear of your successes. No one in this family has done so well in such a short time, in the last five generations. We are all happy for you here, and pray for you and wait to hear from you again.

“But I am speaking to you now on an unhappy occasion. Your uncle, Kensie, was assassinated one night shortly over a month ago in the back streets of the city of Blauvain, on St. Marie, by a local terrorist group in opposition to the government there. Ian, who was, of course, an officer in the same unit, later somehow managed to discover the headquarters of the group in some alley or other and killed the three men he found there with his hands. However, this does not bring Kensie back. He was a favorite of us all; and we are all hard hit, here at home, by his death.

“It is Ian, however, who is presently the cause of our chief concern. He brought Kensie’s body home, refusing burial on St. Marie, and has been here now several weeks. You know he was always the dark-natured of the twins, just as it seemed that Kensie had twice the brightness and joy in life that is the usual portion of the normal man. Your mother says it is now as if Ian had lost his good angel, and is abandoned to the forces of darkness which have always had such a grip on him.