beginning of what's needed for a planetary population!"

"How much grain can we hope for?" demanded a man with a blue mark
covering all his chin.

Calhoun told him.

"How long before Weald can have a fleet overhead, dropping fusion
bombs?" demanded another, grimly.

Calhoun named a time. But then he said, "I think we can keep them from
dropping bombs if we can get the grain fleet and some capable
astrogators."

"How?"

He told them. It was not possible to tell the whole story of what he
considered sensible behavior. An emotional program can be presented
and accepted immediately. A plan of action which is actually
intelligent, considering all elements of a situation, has to be
accepted piecemeal. Even so, the military men growled.

"We've plenty of heavy elements," said one. "If we'd used our brains,
we'd have more bombs than Weald can hope for! We could turn that whole
planet into a smoking cinder!"

"Which," said Calhoun acidly, "would give you some satisfaction but
not an ounce of food! And food's more important than satisfaction.
Now, I'm going to take off for Weald again. I'll want somebody to
build an emergency device for my ship, and I'll want the four pilots