"You have no choice," the patrolman said. "The Council sends for you." He moved across the veranda of Heric's cottage, bulking dark against the sky-glow of Nyark the first city. On the slope of lawn below stood his copter, its beetle-black shell glistening faintly in the starshine. Heric stood rigid with alarm in his doorway, still holding the book he had been reading. The night-wind ruffling his hair and the homely sounds from the kitchen where Marta prepared their evening meal made his danger