A guard ship came humming out from Weald.  It would be armed, of course.  It came droning, droning up the forty-odd thousand miles from the planet.  Calhoun swore.  He could not call his students and tell them what was toward.  The guard ship would overhear.  He could not trust untried young men to act rationally if they were unaware and the guard ship arrived and matter-of-factly attempted to board one of them.

Then he was inspired.  He called Murgatroyd, placed him before the communicator, and set it at voice-only transmission.  This was familiar enough, to Murgatroyd.  He’d often seen Calhoun use a communicator.

“Chee!” shrilled Murgatroyd. “Chee-chee!”

A startled voice came out of the speaker:  “What’s that?”

“Chee,” said Murgatroyd zestfully.

The communicator was talking to him.  Murgatroyd adored three things, in order.  One was Calhoun.  The second was coffee.  The third was pretending to converse like a human being.  The speaker said explosively, “You there, identify yourself!”

“Chee-chee-chee-chee!” observed Murgatroyd.  He wriggled with pleasure and added, reasonably enough, “Chee!”

The communicator bawled, “Calling ground!  Calling ground!  Listen to this!  Something that ain’t human’s talking at me on a communicator!  Listen in an’ tell me what to do!”

Murgatroyd interposed with another shrill, “Chee!”

Then Calhoun pulled the Med Ship slowly away from the clump of still-lifeless grain ships.  It was highly improbable that the guard boat would carry an electron telescope.  Most likely it would have only an echo-radar, and so could determine only that an object of some sort moved of its own accord in space.  Calhoun let the Med Ship accelerate.  That would be final evidence.  The grain ships were between Weald and its sun.  Even electron telescopes on the ground—­and electron telescopes were ultimately optical telescopes with electronic amplification—­could not get a good image of the ship through sunlit atmosphere.

“Chee?” asked Murgatroyd solicitously. “Chee-chee-chee?”

“Is it blueskins?” shakily demanded the voice from the guard boat.  “Ground!  Ground!  Is it blueskins?”

A heavy, authoritative voice came in with much greater volume.  “That’s no human voice,” it said harshly.  “Approach its ship and send back an image.  Don’t fire first unless it heads for ground.”

The guard ship swerved and headed for the Med Ship.  It was still a very long way off.

“Chee-chee,” said Murgatroyd encouragingly.

Calhoun changed the Med Ship’s course.  The guard ship changed course too.  Calhoun let it draw nearer, but only a little.  He led it away from the fleet of grain ships.

He swung his electron telescope on them.  He saw a spacesuited figure outside one, safely roped, however.  It was easy to guess that someone had meant to return to the Med Ship for orders or to make a report, and found the Med Ship gone.  He’d go back inside and turn on a communicator.