Spinneret

"Only one ship entered Ctencri territory," the alien said. "The other presumably breached another people's region."

Saleh blinked. Two alien races … and both within ten light-years? The American President had implied it was a single race that surrounded Earth, not two or more.

Honest mistake or deliberate deception? "Perhaps you can help us contact the other … people," he said, fighting to get back on balance again. "Or at least assure them we weren't attempting an attack on their territory. We seek only to find new worlds—unoccupied worlds, of course—that we may peacefully colonize."

"That will be impossible."

"Why? Don't you have communication with them?"

"Pardon; you misunderstand. We will certainly aid you in contacting the other peoples. It is your seeking of worlds to colonize which is impossible."

Saleh frowned, his stomach tightening up again. "I don't understand."

"All suitable worlds are already occupied."

There was a moment of dead silence. "Occupied by whom?" the British delegate demanded.

"Many by their indigenous peoples," the Ctencri said. "Such worlds are closed to outside contact, as was yours until now. The remainder are occupied or claimed by space-going people such as ourselves."

"How many space-going races are there?" Saleh asked.

"The Ctencri have direct contact with nine others. The existence of seventeen more is known secondhand. We believe there to be many others."

The Russians didn't believe it, of course. Neither, to a lesser extent, did the Americans and the Europeans. The star ships were sent out again, in new directions. And again. And again.

Eventually, they were all convinced.

"So this is it," Saleh said, leaning back in his chair and gazing out the window at the lights of New York. They were glowing brightly, as usual, and the Yemeni felt his usual twinge of anger. The work at Oak Ridge and Princeton in the last century had guaranteed that the United States, at least, would not starve for energy for a long time to come … but the rest of the world still waited for the promised sharing of that technology.

Someone cleared his throat, and Saleh shifted his attention back to the five heads of state he'd invited to this meeting. "This makes no sense at all," Japanese Prime Minister Nagata said, laying down a copy of the report. "An Earth-type world complete with water and a breathable atmosphere and no metals! That's absurd."

"I only know what the Ctencri said," Saleh said, shrugging. "It's because the planet hasn't got any metals that we've even got a chance at it—otherwise the Rooshrike would have found a use for the place long ago."

"Could this be some sort of elaborate trap?" Premier Sing of the People's Republic asked. "I understand the Rooshrike are the ones who fired on the Celeritas."

"According to the Ctencri, the Rooshrike simply act impulsively at times," Saleh told him. "Apparently, they jumped to the wrong conclusion when the Celeritas didn't give the proper identification signals. I've been assured that's all straightened out now."

"Less likely a trap than a swindle," Russia's Liadov rumbled. "How much would the Rooshrike and the Ctencri want for this worthless lump of mud?"

"Nothing humans can live on is completely worthless," President Allerton said mildly, a soft gleam in his eye.

The Russian snorted.

"The cost actually isn't that bad," Saleh said. "It would come out to eighty million dollars' worth of certain relatively rare elements—the list of acceptable purity levels is on the last page. For that we would get a hundred-year lease with renewal option." He paused. "Which brings us to the reason I've asked you here tonight.

The rental fee would only be the tip of the iceberg if we intend to actually do anything with this world. Homes would have to be built, crops planted, industries started, colonists screened and trained—it would be a tremendous project."

"And so you've come to us for money," British Prime Minister Smythe-Walker put in dryly.

"Yes," Saleh nodded without shame. "The UN budget can't support something like this, let alone organize everything—we simply haven't the funds or manpower.

We would have to contract out parts of the operation, which would take even more money. So before I even bring this up to the Security Council and General Assembly, I need to know whether or not the money will be forthcoming from those who can afford it."

"Why bother?" Liadov shrugged. "You ask a great deal for the privilege of Eying the UN flag on a world with less economic value even than Venus. You would do better to fund expeditions to the Jovian moons."

"You overstate the case somewhat," Sing said, "but you are essentially correct.

This world does not seem worth its cost."

"Crops won't grow without traces of metal in the soil, for starters," Nagata put in.

"All food would need to be imported. And what could they export in exchange?"

"Other minerals," Allerton said, still skimming the report. "One of the continents appears to be ringed with underwater mineral deposits."

"What, silicates and such?" Smythe-Walker shook his head. "Sorry, John, but it's hard to imagine any rock formations worth carting up a gravity well and across forty light-years of space And there's still the thing with food, unless you want to add a few tons of iron and manganese silicates to the soil before you plant."

"Why not?" Allerton countered. "It's not as impractical as you make it sound."

"No—but it is expensive." Smythe-Walker looked at Saleh. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe His Majesty's government will be able to guarantee any support for such a project."

"Has it occurred to you—to any of you," Allerton added, glancing around the table, "that this whole thing might be some sort of test? That our willingness to take on what seems to be a hopeless task may be how all those aliens out there judge our spirit and ingenuity?"

"More likely testing our intelligence," Nagata murmured.

"I have an idea," Liadov spoke up. "As Mr. Allerton seems to be the only one of us interested in demonstrating mankind's resolve to our new neighbors—and as he is so fond of invoking Yankee ingenuity as the solution to all our problems—I suggest we give the United States a UN mandate to develop and administer this world. With a certain amount of UN support, of course."

"All right," Allerton said abruptly. "If I can get Congress to approve, we'll do it.

And"—he leveled a finger at Liadov— "we'll do it well."

The next day the matter was brought before the General Assembly, which endorsed the mandate by a 148 to 13 vote. A month later the U.S. Senate followed suit, and the world newly christened Astra became the center of perhaps the biggest project the Army Corps of Engineers had ever undertaken.

Eleven months after that, the first colonists arrived.