“This is suitable,” said the Rigelian.

“We’ll set out at once, then. Since the Peccable landed at least half an hour before your ship, we have clear priority.”

“Interesting,” Captain Fourteen Deathless said. “But just how do you compute you arrived before we did? By our instruments we were down long before you.”

Harskin started to sputter, then checked himself. “Impossible!”

“Oh? Cite your landing time, please, with reference to Galactic Absolute.”

“We put down at…” Harskin paused. “No. Suppose you tell me what time you landed, and then I’ll give you our figures.”

“That’s hardly fair,” said the Rigelian. “How do we know you won’t alter your figures once we’ve given ours?”

“And how do we know, on the other hand . . . ?”

“It won’t work,” said the alien. “Neither of us will allow the other priority.”

Shrugging, Harskin saw the truth of that. Regardless of the fact that the Peccable actually had landed first, the Rigelians would never admit it. It was a problem in simple relativity; without an external observer to supply impartial data, it was Fourteen Deathless’ word against Harskin’s.

“All right,” Harskin said wearily. “Call it a stalemate. Suppose we both go to Fafnir now, and have them choose between us.”

There was silence at the other end for a while. Then the Rigelian said, “This is acceptable. The rights of the neutral parties must be respected, of course.”

“Of course. Until this system is settled, we’re all neutrals, remember?”

“Naturally,” said the Rigelian.

It was not, thought Harskin, a totally satisfactory arrangement. Still, it could hardly be helped.

By the very strict rules with which the Terran-Rigelian “war” was being fought, a system was considered neutral until a majority of its intelligently inhabited worlds had declared a preference for one power or the other.

In the Antares system, a majority vote would have to be a unanimous one.