 How is Croanie going to affect Lovenbroy?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1962. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "In that case, let's leave it to Miss Furkle. "The Bogans have launched no less than four military campaigns in the last two decades. "Our function is merely to bring them together. I'll leave him to you, Retief," Magnan said. Retief punched Miss Furkle's button. "Well, out on Lovenbroy we've got a serious problem. "Only mature every twelve years. In between, the vines don't need a lot of attention, so our time's mostly our own. Lovenbroy's a nice place, Mr. Retief." "It sounds like it, Mr. Arapoulous. Five of 'em. Cold as hell in winter; eccentric orbit, you know. Blue-black sky, stars visible all day. Lots of skiing, bob-sledding, ice skating; and it's the season for woodworkers. Lots of beach on Lovenbroy; we're mostly islands. Fruit, grain, that kind of thing; getting it in doesn't take long. Arapoulous puffed on his cigar, looked worriedly at Retief. But this year...." Course, I'm only twenty-eight; I can't remember but two other harvests. Arapoulous put his bundle on the desk, pulled off the wrappings. Arapoulous pulled the wire retainer loose, thumbed the cork. It tastes like salted pecans, with an undercurrent of crusted port." Retief put aside his cigar, pulled the wires loose, nudged the cork, caught it as it popped up. "We've got plenty of minerals on Lovenbroy," Arapoulous said, swallowing wine. "We had to borrow money from a world called Croanie. Picking Bacchus grapes isn't a job you can turn over to machinery—and anyway we wouldn't if we could. Vintage season is the high point of living on Lovenbroy. There's prizes for the biggest day's output, bets on who can fill the most baskets in an hour.... The sun's high and bright, and it's just cool enough to give you plenty of energy. Matter of fact, pretty near half our young-uns are born after a vintage. That would make them only twelve years old by the time—" "Oh, that's Lovenbroy years; they'd be eighteen, Terry reckoning." If we don't get a big vintage, Croanie steps in. "Bolo Model WV/1 tractors, to be specific.
 They are going to invade it.
 They are going to steal its students.  They are going to help Lovenbroy pick it’s crop.  They are going to steal all its wine.  They are going to invade it.