Hanlon was awakened shortly after dawn the next morning. "Darn this having to pretend to such jobs," he growled to himself as he rose, washed and dressed. He had always preferred to sleep as late as possible, and getting up at such ungodly hours did not tend to make him too happy the first few hours of the day. Yet, young as he was, he had developed the philosophy of accepting what must be as gracefully as possible, and now consoled himself with the hope that he would probably not have to keep up this imposture very many days.

His first care was to examine minutely, in the mirror, the make-up he had applied. The ears and nose still seemed to be all right and holding tightly. But he was careful, when no one was around during the days that followed, to look at them as often as he could in a pocket mirror he carried.

After a good breakfast in the dining room he was put to work cleaning, feeding and watering the cavals. Endar brought two of the horses from their stalls, snapped their halters into rings in a post, and was busy currying them. When he finished he saddled the two and led them out, after first telling Hanlon to make sure the stables were clean, in case the Ruler came to inspect them.

There were three other stablemen, working at the same general tasks. Hanlon, without neglecting his own work, made it a point to try to engage them in conversation.

"I love this kind of work, don't you?" he asked confidingly. "I'm so proud the Ruler gave me this job."

All the time he was studying their surface minds, trying to get a line on what manner of men they were—whether they would be inclined to be too friendly and intruding. But to his relief, he found they were rather stupid, loutish fellows, not caring too greatly what they did nor who was working with them, as long as they had a good place to live, plenty to eat, and fair pay. They seemed mildly surprised at his evident enthusiasm. One of them answered, in a churlish voice, "It's only a job—why get so excited about it?"

His mind-probings told him, however, that none of them was the type to be involved in any plot that might be going on, even as the most humble participants or workers. He had nothing to fear from them in any way.

When the work was finished for the morning, the other three men went into the tackroom and began playing cards. They ignored Hanlon, not asking him to play with them, seemingly not caring what he did.

He went outside, sought the shade of a large flowertree, and sat down with his back leaning against the bole. He closed his eyes, the better to concentrate, and strengthened his mental control of the cavals ridden by Elus Amir and Endar, in which he had put a smallish portion of his mind when they started out. He knew that so far no untoward incident had occurred—the Ruler was riding along that country road, wrapped in thought, not talking, not meeting anyone, paying no attention to the groom following him.

Hanlon had not expected anything would occur, but wanted to know if it did, and especially wanting to be sure he could perfectly control the Ruler's caval at all times, no matter what the distance.

Early the next morning a houseman approached the stables. "K'nyer Amir says to get his son's caval ready, for he rides with him today."

Endar indicated a certain animal to Hanlon. "Bring that one out and get it saddled. The young man's gear is the second set on the right of the door in the tack room."

Hanlon hurriedly led the caval out, snapped its halter ring in a nearby post, then ran to get the blanket, saddle and bridle.

"Those back legs aren't smooth," the head groom snapped. "Curry and brush them again. Inver is particular."

"Yes, nyer, thank you," Hanlon made haste to obey, and was careful in his work. When the beasts were ready, the groom took the reins in his hands, and led them to the mounting block.

Hanlon implanted parts of his mind in each of the two cavals. Thus he was ready for his spying when the two men came out of the residence.

Through the eyes, wide set in the only-slightly elongated, broad heads of the steeds, Hanlon studied this important new character, of whom he had heard much. He saw a tallish, very intelligent-looking native, guessed him to be in his middle or late twenties. The fellow had a slight though wiry build, and reddish-blond hair and trimmed beard. Hanlon liked this Inver on sight, and decided instantly that what he had heard was somehow wrong. The Ruler's son certainly did not look half-crazy.

He pondered the matter. Was that impression being sowed about the planet deliberately? Was someone trying to tear down any reputation or influence the young man might have?

"This," his eyes gleamed, "is going to be good. I'm sure going to watch and listen carefully today."

Hanlon crowded into the brains of the two cavals all of his mind they could hold, finding that the animals had enough capacity to take a full half of his own mind. He had barely enough left in his body to keep on with his work which, luckily, did not require much mental effort. He still had more left than the other stablemen possessed.

The riders had barely left the palace grounds when Hanlon, through the caval's ears, heard the young man speak.

"I hope, father, that you have thought about the subject I broached to you the other day, and the reasons I suggested for your further study. I pray you have decided that our world will do well to join the Federation of Planets, as we have been invited to do."

Hanlon could tell, by the tone, that the Ruler's mind and voice were troubled. "Son, I don't know what to decide. There are so many things to think about. There are many good reasons why we should, it is true. There are also many equally good reasons why we should not. I am, as you know, very jealous of Estrella's independence. I should hate to see it made subservient to any other power."

"But, father," Inver said earnestly, "we would not be. I have studied very carefully the proposition made us by the Federation Council, and the copy of their constitution they sent with it. They guarantee each planet complete autonomy, and state very plainly that the Council is only a judicial body set up to negotiate intra-planetary treaties and to see that the various worlds remain in harmony with each other. The advantages...."

"But it's all a trick of those Terrans to get control of the entire galaxy," his father broke in.

"That's not only nonsense, father, but a deliberate lie. I'm sure you know who is fostering it, and I think you can guess the reason."

"I presume you're still talking about the Second-In-Line. But Irad isn't like that, at all. He has a good mind, and he has presented some excellent reasons and arguments as to why we should not join the Federation."

"Sure, he would. He wants to keep Estrella free, so that when he takes over he can pluck it like a...."

"That's a strong indictment, son. I hope it is not jealousy because he won out over you in the tests."

"It is not jealousy, and while I haven't the proof yet, k'nyer, I do know it's true," the young man said hotly. "You can be sure that when I do get the truth I shall call for Irad's impeachment. No, father, I and many friends are concerned over this matter, and are satisfied we are correct."

Hanlon could guess at the troubled eyes of the older man, and that he was shaking his head sadly. "I hate to think that of Adwal Irad," he said. "He has always seemed so interested in helping me to build up Estrella's economy and is constantly bringing new ideas for her betterment. He seems to be making every effort to become worthy of his post when he succeeds me."

"I know," sadly. "He wasn't like this until recently. But he has changed someway, father. Now he is power mad. Also, he is trying to make me out as a fool and a brainless dara," Inver snapped.

"Why ... why ... I never heard him say anything like that," there was astonishment in the elder's voice. "He always speaks well of you."

"Naturally, k'nyer, he wouldn't be crass enough to say anything of that sort to you. But he and his henchmen are spreading that story all over our world."

"Oh, I'm sure you must be mistaken."

"I'm not," grimly. "The evidence on that is unmistakable."

There was decisiveness now in the Ruler's voice. "If that's true, I'll certainly put a stop to it."

"Don't, father, not at once," his son pleaded quickly. "Do not even mention it to Adwal yet, please. Nor make a public pronouncement about it. That would put him on his guard, and I and my friends need time to prove the other things I'm talking about."

"I'll not have word spread that my son is a ... a weakling, or stupid," the elder's voice was angry, and Hanlon felt the jerk on the reins of his caval that told of the sudden gesture.

"Just so you don't believe it, father, is all I care at the moment."

Hanlon felt the two animals swerve and touch sides, and knew that Amir had drawn closer to his son, and shrewdly guessed he was touching the boy lovingly.

"You need never fear that, Inver. I've always been proud of the way you've taken hold of things, ever since you were a boy."

"I've tried, k'nyer, to make myself a worthy son of a great father," there was emotion in the young man's voice. "I've studied everything I thought would help me—economics, psychology, statecraft, history, and all. And especially, since the Federation first made contact with us, I've tried to learn all I could about them, their various forms of government, their history, and everything. That's why I'm so sure they mean us well, not harm."

"But we're not Terrans. We're just semi-civilized beasts in their eyes."

"Another of Adwal's dirty lies," Inver snapped. "If they felt that, would they have asked us to join them as a full-fledged world? No, they would have come here with a fleet of warships of space, and conquered us. They could have, easily, you know. They made no effort to hide the fact that they had such power from the ones who were taken on that inspection trip."

"No, we have no spaceships, and nothing that could stop one," his father admitted. "That's one of the things that has made me hesitate to decide against them—the fact that they have them but did not use them. On the other hand, if we decide not to join, how do we know they won't send their fleet here and...."

"Because they aren't that kind of people. Why, sire, in their history I learned that when the Terrans first started exploring space, one of their great men, named John Snyder, who seems to have had quite a lot of power at the time, promulgated a ruling that says, 'Man must never colonize any planet having inhabitants intelligent enough to show cultural activity and growth'. And that concept has never been broken, and is still in force."

"Why, I never heard that."

"I told you, k'nyer, I have been studying them diligently, and so know much about them."

For the balance of their ride that morning, the two continued their discussion, and Hanlon—working through the ears of the two cavals—listened closely, and learned much.

The two were almost back to the residence when Inver's caval stepped into a hole, and stumbled badly. It wrenched its leg so it could barely stand on it. Inver immediately dismounted and examined the leg as best he could.

"It looks bad, father," he said after a minute or so. "I'll walk the rest of the way, and lead it slowly. It's not too far from here, so you go ahead if you wish."

"Well," slowly, "all right. I'll have the doctor meet you at the stables, and see if the beast can be healed. If not, it should be destroyed to save it pain."

"Yes, I know that would be best, although I dislike to think of it, for this is my favorite."

The Ruler cantered on, and the young man followed slowly, letting the caval hobble along at its own gait. When Inver finally reached the stables, he talked with the head groom, Endar, and with the animal physician, who arrived shortly afterwards.

"I'm not sure," was the doctor's statement after much studying. "I'll try to save it, but I don't know if such an injury will heal or not. The ligament seems to have been torn loose, and being inside the leg it is hard to get at it with medicine. See how badly it has swollen already."

The caval was put into its stall, and after treating it as best he could with the limited knowledge and techniques known, the doctor left.

Hanlon knew about the accident, of course, and had been keeping the caval from feeling too much of the pain. He made it a point to be standing near while the animal was being examined and treated, and was surprised at how little the doctor could do. The Estrellan veterinarian did not even apply hot or cold compresses, nor bandage the swollen leg in any way. Also, apparently, he did not know about hypodermics for injecting medicine into the injured parts.

Later in the afternoon, after their work was done and he had some free time, Hanlon thought more concisely about the matter. If he could help any, he would make a friend of Inver, he felt sure. More than ever he liked the young fellow, whom he decided was a real man in every respect.

But he must be careful not to give himself away—not to display knowledge Estrellans did not know.

Suddenly he recalled the shooting of the fish, and what he had been able to do there. "I wonder if I can help this healing in any way, with my mind?" he pondered.

The other grooms, including Endar, had left the stables for the bunkhouse, so Hanlon was there alone. He sat down near the injured caval's stall, insinuated his mind into that of the animal, and began studying its brain, nerves and muscles. After considerable intensive study he found the way to make its muscles relax—he had already long since established a nerve block so that the caval felt no pain. Now he learned to make those muscles and nerves contract or relax, even to the point of almost causing a temporary paralysis.

Deeper and ever deeper he probed into its physical structure. Especially now, he tried to trace the nervous system connecting with its various glands, looking for confirmation or refutation of a startling concept he had glimpsed.

After much study and experimentation by the trial and error method, he was beginning to find it possible to partially control the increase or decrease of flow of the secretions of its glands—but far from perfectly. For it was an intricate and involved method, necessitating as it did the locating of the nerves that led to and controlled those glands, and then learning how to activate or inhibit them—nor could he be sure it was not chance only the few times he made them operate as he wished.

Yet he watched carefully to see the results of the activations of each gland, and finally believed he had found the one that was the master gland in charge of the body's healing functions. He now worked on this, trying to direct the added secretions through the blood stream and into the caval's injured parts.

Soon, even though his forcings were spasmodic and infrequent, he could begin to perceive that this was actually the way it should be done—the wounded ligaments and flesh and muscles showed signs of starting to heal a bit faster than nature was doing it.

His deep concentration was rudely broken by a heavy hand on his shoulder, and an angry voice saying, "What d'you think you're doing here?"

Looking up, he saw that it was Endar. Hanlon recalled the portion of his mind from that of the caval.

"Oh," he scrambled to his feet and fixed his face in a look of deep concern. "I was just studying Inver's poor caval, and trying to figure out a way to help cure its leg."

The head groom sneered. "I suppose you think you know more about it than I do, or the doctor."

Hanlon was certain he knew far more than the groom, and probably things the doctor had never even guessed. But he kept his voice humble and almost servile. "I didn't say or mean that, nyer. But I have had some experience with animals, as I told you and the Ruler, and I've helped cure many injured ones. Since it was my off time, I didn't think I was overstepping my place to see what I could do."

"You been handling it?" Endar asked sharply.

"Oh, no, nyer, I was just sitting here thinking about it, and trying to remember all I had learned or heard about how such injuries have been healed. Then I was going to come and suggest them to you."

"Well, it's none of your business, so get out and leave it alone," was the surly command ... and Hanlon left.

But that night, after he was sure the others were all sound asleep, he sent his mind back to the stables and into the brain of Inver's injured mount.

In its spaceship the strange being was feeling a depth of frustration almost unknown to one of its cold, logical race. Its "interrogation" of the prisoners had yielded surprising but already-deduced information. In its rational yet impersonal way the being was somewhat regretful for the death of the one entity. Not because of the death itself, but because there was no logical reason why the entity should be dead, and therefore unable to yield further data.

The one still remaining imprisoned had given up much additional knowledge of a kind that had shocked the being, for it told of conditions never before considered as obtaining in the galaxy. Yet the being did not see how that information could help in this present project—it was, in fact, decidedly inimical to that project's success.

As for the one that had been allowed to "escape," that one had led to the unreadable mind as hoped. Although still kept controlled and UNsane, the being was allowing that one to remain in what it considered a safe hiding place, rather than continually on the run.

But even though the being had now been following that enigmatic entity's body, through its powerful, multiphased scanners, it still could not make any sort of contact with that mind. Thus it did not yet know whether or not that mind was like the other three, or the two that came occasionally and briefly in their ship of space. Under its easily-penetrated disguise, the entity appeared to be like the others, but that could or could not mean anything worth knowing.

It was all very puzzling, and the alien being came as near feeling anger as was possible to one of its phlegmatic nature. But it coldly resolved that that one must, also, die ... and soon.