ideas there are from their own people. You may think of yourself as a galactic trouble-shooter if you like. Don't let anyone try to force their approach on you. Let your own uniqueness of viewpoint be your inspiration, your method. If you do this, I am sure you will succeed."
He stopped for a moment to review, and a fresh tug at the offending ear.
"So, you need more specifics. The planet you will be going to is called Fen-Hadramaut II. For simplicity's sake we'll call it Fen. This is a planet at war. This is the eleventh year of that war, and it has gone on unabated for the entire eleven years.
"One would think there was some deep-seated reason for this conflict. You know, the usual things, territorial disputes, religious/ethnic differences, even perhaps that ancient madness, lebensraum. Then there is racial paranoia, that's very popular as a so-called reason for conflict. Is it in fact one of these? The answer is no, William. We, that is the Confederation, do not know what the reasons are.
"Eleven years ago there was no outward sign of trouble from Fen. It was an average Confederation planet, physically similar to your Earth. There are six racial types, two humanoid, one aquatic and three insectoid. Prior to the war they were all living in relative harmony. There were minor conflicts of a limited and local nature, but certainly nothing the confederation would concern itself with.
"As planets go on the evolutionary scale, they are well advanced. So when war broke out between one of the humanoid groups and an insectoid group, it was quite startling. In the beginning it was only noted as a situation that should be watched. I regret the Confederation didn't have the foresight to step in at the beginning. But, our charter is very specific about interfering in the private affairs of other worlds.
"In a remarkably short period of time the other nations and races began to take sides. Not just in the moral sense, but in a participatory sense. In two years every country and its racial inhabitants had aligned to one side or the other.
"Although we don't know the significance yet, the sides were drawn along geographical boundaries.
"There are two main continents, Yarel Sor and Waren Sor, separated by two large oceans and numerous islands. These make up the principal geographical features of the planet surface. As I said, there wasn't any vast long-standing political rift. All of the races mentioned were living in relative harmony when, whammo, as you fellows say, global war. It's as if some strange form of collective madness simultaneously took over the lives of every person on the planet."
Mr. Carson was quiet for some time, and William was being pressed by some thought, some nagging idea, but it wouldn't develop so he waited for Carson to go on.
"Both sides began branching out into their solar system, each side claiming several of the planets. On the sixth planet lives a peaceful race of bio-organic crystalline beings. Both sides have begun to send military probes into that planet in search of certain raw materials needed to fuel their headlong flight to self-annihilation.
"Now they have involved another race. This is the point at which the Confederation stepped in. It is also the point at which planetary sterilization was considered. Unfortunately neither side in the conflict seems willing to listen to any outside advice, nor will they accept mediation in any form."
William couldn't help it, he had to interrupt. "Look, Mr. Carson, I know you keep saying there's something I can do..."
"Please be patient, Mr. Holt-Fennimore. I have been at this sort of thing for a long time. Without blowing my own pipes, I may safely say I have been rather successful."
William didn't bother to correct Carson's droll use of American slang, he was so proud of it.
"Stay with me, William. There is a uniqueness to this problem which has so far eluded our attempts at understanding. We sent people in with orders to contact the leaders of both sides. These are, or were, good people. For reasons we have been unable to fathom they almost immediately became aligned, biased in favor of the people or side with whom they made first contact.
"Our purpose for sending these people in was to get reliable reports on what was happening. We tried everything. We sent journalists, intelligence agents, historians, none of whom were known to have any previous affiliation or bias regarding the inhabitants of Fen. We also tried different racial types in case there was some sort of ethnic persuasion at work.
"It didn't matter. If the person sent made first contact with side A, they immediately took on the political/social bias of side A. If they were sent into the area of side B, they joined side B. To a man, or woman, whatever, they each became embroiled in the war. They took sides!
"In several cases they even joined in the fighting. We cannot get reliable reports from people who don't remember why they were sent there in the first place."
Christ on a crutch! What a mess, William thought. I wonder what makes him think I'm any different? Why shouldn't the same effect hit me? Just because I'm from Earth? It doesn't make any sense. Hell, he doesn't make any sense, William shook his head helplessly.
Mr. Carson went on undisturbed by William's doubts. "The Confederation must know what is going on, what is the truth, before any drastic decision affecting the lives of millions of living beings is made. Can you imagine what would happen if we went in there, sterilized the planet, stopped the war at the cost of the lives of most of the people living there, only to find out later there was something we could have done? It could de-stabilize the Confederation itself. Nations, worlds, who now look to the Confederation for help and guidance in their most severe difficulties, would lose faith. They'd resort to their ancient ways. It could lead to chaos on an unprecedented scale."
"I understand what you're saying, Mr. Carson, I just don't feel trained or qualified to do anything about it."
"I know what you feel, if you will forgive my presumption, Mr. Holt-Fennimore. Before you go to Fen, you and I are going to another planet in the Confederation. There you will attend a school of sorts. You will be brought up to date on current technology, history of the Confederation, economics of the member worlds, a variety of subjects.
"Also you will be thoroughly grounded in the history of Fen. You will acquire two new languages immediately. There isn't much time so your employers will expect you to work hard. I have also recommended you attend a three week physical conditioning course. During the course you will be briefed and receive training on the current military technology available; particularly what is being used on Fen."
He must have noticed William's disbelief. "I'm afraid," he went on, "your quiet five-to-nine days are going to come to an end. Remember, Mr. Holt-Fennimore, you wanted change. Well, you're going to get it," he chuckled.
William failed to see the humor. Not surprising, he thought. When one slides down the emotional curve of boredom, despair and apathy, one of the first things that goes is sense of humor. What little he had left was getting used up fast.
"William, this is your contract." He pulled a sheet of plastic from a slot in his console. It was slate gray with two diagonal red bars across one corner. "This has been authorized by Ser Garindror himself. He's currently the senior member of the Council of the Confederation. If you want to review it, insert it in the reader thus, and request verbal access."
He showed William how it was done, and together they went over all the rules, clauses, where ases and wherefores.
"Is there anything you don't understand?" he asked.
"No," William said, "I understand it."
"What
