Another deep breath. No one moved.

"You have all heard the propaganda of the Invaders. You know that they have offered you--well, what? Freedom? Yes, that's the way they term it.

Freedom." Another pause. "Freedom. _Hah!_"

He put his hands on his hips. "None of you have ever seen a really regimented society--and I'm thankful that you haven't. I hope that you never will."

Chief Samas twisted his lips into an expression of hatred. "Freedom?

Freedom from _what_! Freedom to _do_ what?

"I'll tell you. Freedom to work in their factories for twelve hours a day! Freedom to work until you are no longer of any use to them, and then be turned out to die--with no home, and no food to support you.

Freedom to live by yourselves, with every man's hand against you, with every pittance that you earn taxed to support a government that has no thought for the individual!

"Is that what you want? Is that what you've worked for all your lives?"

A visual chorus of shaken heads accompanied the verbal chorus of "No."

Chief Samas dropped his hands to his sides. "I thought not. But I will repeat: If any of you want to go to the Invaders, you may do so now."

Anketam noticed a faint movement to his right, but it stopped before it became decisive. He glanced over, and he noticed that young Basom was standing there, half poised, as though unable to make up his mind.

Then The Chief's voice bellowed out again. "Very well. You are with me.

I will leave the work of the barony in your hands. I ask that you produce as much as you can. Next year--next spring--we will not plant _cataca_."

There was a low intake of breath from the a.s.sembled men. Not plant _cataca_? That was the crop that they had grown since--well, since _ever_. Anketam felt as though someone had jerked a rug from beneath him.

"There is a reason for this," The Chief went on. "Because of the blockade that surrounds Xedii, we are unable to export _cataca_ leaves.

The rest of the galaxy will have to do without the drug that is extracted from the leaves. The incident of cancer will rise to the level it reached before the discovery of _cataca_. When they understand that we cannot ship out because of the Invader's blockade, they will force the Invader to stop his attack on us. What we need now is not _cataca_, but food. So, next spring, you will plant food crops.

"Save aside the _cataca_ seed until the war is over. The seedlings now in the greenhouses will have to be destroyed, but that cannot be helped."

He stopped for a moment, and when he began again his voice took on a note of sadness.

"I will be away from you until the war is won. While I am gone, the barony will be run by my wife. You will obey her as you would me. The finances of the barony will be taken care of by my trusted man, Kevenoe." He gestured to one side, and Kevenoe, who was standing there, smiled quickly and then looked grim again.

"As for the actual running of the barony--as far as labor is concerned--I think I can leave that in the hands of one of my most capable men."

He raised his finger and pointed. There was a smile on his face.

Anketam felt as though he had been struck an actual blow; the finger was pointed directly at him.

"Anketam," said The Chief, "I'm leaving the barony in your hands until I return. You will supervise the labor of all the men here. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," said Anketam weakly. "Yes, sir. I understand."

IV

Never, for the rest of his life, would the sharp outlines of that moment fade from his memory. He knew that the men of the barony were all looking at him; he knew that The Chief went on talking afterwards. But those things impressed themselves but lightly on his mind, and they blurred soon afterwards. Twenty years later, in retelling the story, he would swear that The Chief had ended his speech at that point. He would swear that it was only seconds later that The Chief had jumped down from the gate and motioned for him to come over; his memory simply didn't register anything between those two points.

But The Chief's words after the speech--the words spoken to him privately--were bright and clear in his mind.

The Chief was a good three inches shorter than Anketam, but Anketam never noticed that. He just stood there in front of The Chief, wondering what more his Chief had to say.

"You've shown yourself to be a good farmer, Anketam," Chief Samas said in a low voice. "Let's see--you're of Skebbin stock, I think?"

Anketam nodded. "Yes, sir."

"The Skebbin family has always produced good men. You're a credit to the Skebbins, Anketam."

"Thank you, sir."

"You've got a hard job ahead of you," said The Chief. "Don't fail me.

Plant plenty of staple crops, make sure there's enough food for everyone. If you think it's profitable, add more to the animal stock.

I've authorized Kevenoe to allow money for the purchase of breeding stock. You can draw whatever you need for that purpose.

"This war shouldn't last too long. Another year, at the very most, and we'll have forced the Invaders off Xedii. When I come back, I expect to find the barony in good shape, d'you hear?"

"Yes, sir. It will be."

"I think it will," said The Chief. "Good luck to you, Anketam."

As The Chief turned away, Anketam said: "Thank you, sir--and good luck to you, sir."

Chief Samas turned back again. "By the way," he said, "there's one more thing. I know that men don't always agree on everything. If there is any dispute between you and Kevenoe, submit the question to my wife for arbitration." He hesitated. "However, I trust that there will not be many such disputes. A woman shouldn't be bothered with such things any more than is absolutely necessary. It upsets them. Understand?"

Anketam nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Very well. Good-by, Anketam. I hope to see you again before the next harvest." And with that, he turned and walked through the gate, toward the woman who was standing anxiously on the porch of his home.

Anketam turned away and started towards his own village. Most of the others had already begun the trek back. But Jacovik, Blejjo, and Basom were waiting for him. They fell into step beside him.

After a while, Jacovik broke the silence. "Well, Ank, it looks like you've got a big job on your hands."

"That's for sure," said Anketam. He knew that Jacovik envied him the job; he knew that Jacovik had only missed the appointment by a narrow margin.

"Jac," he said, "have you got a man on your crew that you can trust to take over your job?"

"Madders could do it, I think," Jacovik said cautiously. "Why?"

"This is too big a job for one man," said Anketam quietly. "I'll need help. I want you to help me, Jac."

There was a long silence while the men walked six paces. Then Jacovik said: "I'll do whatever I can, Ank. Whatever I can." There was honest warmth in his voice.

Again there was a silence.

"Blejjo," Anketam said after a time, "do you mind coming out of retirement for a while?"