The Tinker Composite had vanished from the Star Chamber. Its components, mindless as individuals, had dispersed and flown out of the imaging volume. The Pipe-Rilla was still present, but it had bent forward and curled its body until the narrow head was almost on the floor.

“Let’s see if I have this right.” Chan Dalton stood up. “You want me to leave the nice, cushy job I have back on Earth and fly a team out to the Geyser Swirl in the ass end of the known universe, where chances are I’ll get knocked on the head the second I come out of the Link exit. I’m supposed to bring the other two teams back, dead or alive. Suppose I say yes — and I’m not saying that I will. What’s in it for me?”

“If you undertake this task, we, the members of the Stellar Group, are ready to lift the quarantine on humans. Naturally, it will be for a trial period, while we again evaluate human behavior. But this time we will recognize, as we are recognizing now, that certain tasks cannot be performed without the assistance of humans.”

“Very nice — for humans. You haven’t said what’s in it for me , but we’ll worry about that later. So I go off to the Swirl, and when I’m there things get kind of nasty. I have to kill off a few aliens before there’s any chance of coming home. Are you saying that will be all right?”

“No!” The blue-green fronds on the Angel’s upper body were thrashing in agitation, while the recumbent Pipe-Rilla in the next imaging volume uttered a continuous spluttering moan. “You refer to the killing of other intelligent beings! Of course it is not all right! It is absolutely forbidden. Violence is never the only solution . The rules of conduct of civilized beings must not be violated.”