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hunter with apprentice moving up fast on the outside."
    "I mean the road," Stetson said. "You may consider this a first lesson in I-A technique: a wide road that follows the ridges is a military road. Always.
    Farm roads are narrow and follow the water level routes. Military roads are wider, avoid swamps and cross rivers at right angles. This one fits all the way."
    "But . . ." Orne fell silent as the hunter came up to them, passed their vehicle with only a casual side-glance.
    "What's that leather case on his back?" Stetson asked.
    "Spyglass."
    "Lesson number two," Stetson said. "Telescopes originate as astronomical devices. Spyglasses are developed as an adjunct of a long-range weapon. I would guess those fowling pieces have an effective range of about one hundred meters. Ergo: you may take it as proved that they have artillery."
    Orne nodded. He still felt dazed with the rapidity of developments, unable as yet to accept complete sensations of relief.
    "Now, let's consider that village up ahead," Stetson said. "Notice the flag.
    Almost inevitably flags originate as banners to follow into battle. Not always. However, you may take this as a good piece of circumstantial evidence in view of the other things."
    "I see."
    "There's the docility of the civilian populace," Stetson said. "It's axiomatic that this goes hand in glove with a powerful military and/or religious aristocracy which suppresses technological change. Hamal's Leader Council is nothing but an aristocracy, well versed in the use of religion as a tool of statecraft and in the use of spies, another inevitable development occurring with armies and warfare."
    "They're aristocrats, all right," Orne agreed.
    "Rule one in our book," Stetson said, "says that whenever you have a situation of haves and have-nots, then you have positions to be defended. That always means armies, whether you call them troops or police or guards. I'll bet my bottom credit those gaming fields of the green and yellow balls are disguised drill grounds."
    Orne swallowed. "I should've thought of that."
    "You did," Stetson said. "Unconsciously. You saw all of the wrongness here unconsciously. It bothered hell out of you. That's why you pushed the panic button."
    "I guess you're right."
    "Another lesson," Stetson said. "The most important point on the aggression index: peaceful people, really peaceful types, don't even discuss peace.
    They have developed a dynamic of nonviolence in which the ordinary concept of peace doesn't even occur. They don't even think about it. The only way you develop more than a casual interest in peace as we conceive of it is through the recurrent and violent contrast of war."
    "Of course." Orne took a deep breath, stared at the village on the high ground ahead of them. "But what about the lack of forts? I mean, no cavalry animals and . . ."
    "We can take it for granted that they have artillery," Stetson said.
    "Hmmmmm." He rubbed his chin. "Well, that's probably enough. Well undoubtedly discover a pattern here which rules mobile cavalry out of the equation prohibiting stone forts."
    "I guess so."
    "What happened here was something like this," Stetson said. "First-Contact, that schlammler, may he rot in a military prison, jumped to a wrong conclusion about Hamal. He tipped our hand. The Hamalites got together, declared a truce, hid or disguised every sign of warfare they knew anything about, put out the word to the citizenry, then concentrated on milking us for everything they could get. Have they sent a deputation to Marak, yet?"

    "Yes."
    "Well have to pick them up, too."
    "It figures," Orne said. He began to feel the full emotional cleansing of relief, but with odd overtones of disquiet trailing along behind. His own career was out of the soup, but he thought of the consequences for Hamal in what was about to happen. A full O-force! Military occupation did nasty things to the occupiers and the occupied.
    "I think you'll make a pretty good I-A operative," Stetson