Detta stämmer inte överens med några av de plotpunkter du beskriver, men jag kommer att nämna det eftersom det är en nära match på vissa sätt och jag undrar om det är möjligt att du kanske har sammanflätat två historier under årtiondena.
På något sätt påminde din beskrivning omedelbart mig om Diabologic av Eric Frank Russell . Det var skrivet 1955, men jag minns att jag först läste det på 70-talet. Wayne Hillder är en spejkare som letar efter nya världar och finner den första planet med en rymdfärdsrace:
As he gazed down through his tiny control-cabin's armor-glass, he knew that this was to be contact with a vengeance.
During long, long centuries of human expansion, more than seven hundred inhabitable worlds had been found, charted, explored and, in some cases, exploited. All contained life. A minority held intelligent life. But up to this moment nobody had found one other lifeform sufficiently advanced to cavort among the stars.
Människor har utformat en psykologisk teknik för att hantera första kontakter, därmed titeln, och hans första åtgärd är att sitta på dörrlistan precis som du beskriver:
Switching it off, he opened the inner and outer air-lock doors, sat in the rim with his feet dangling eighty yards above ground level. From this vantage-point he calmly surveyed the mob, his expression that of one who can spit but not be spat upon. The sixth diabological law states that the higher, the fewer. Proof: the sea gull's tactical advantage over man.
Being intelligent, those placed by unfortunate circumstances eighty yards deeper in the gravitational field soon appreciated their state of vertical disadvantage. Short of toppling the ship or climbing a polished surface, they were impotent to get at him. Not that any wanted to in any inimical way. But desire grows strongest when there is the least possibility of satisfaction. So they wanted him down there, face to face, merely because he was out of reach.
To make matters worse, he turned sidewise and lay within the rim, one leg hitched up and hands linked around the knee, then continued looking at them in obvious comfort.
Wayne fångas men fortsätter att använda diabologiska tekniker:
The stranger dismounted and promptly got tossed into the clink. The result of that was odd, too. He should have resented incarceration, seeing that nobody had yet explained the purpose of it. But he didn't. Treating the well-clothed bed in his cell as if it were a luxury provided as recognition of his rights, he sprawled on it full length, boots and all, gave a sigh of deep satisfaction and went to sleep. His watch hung close by his ear and compensated for the constant ticking of the auto-pilot, without which slumber in space was never complete.
Han är utfrågad och slutar slutligen prata med en främling som heter Morfada. Vid den här tiden har han så grundligt förvirrat utlänningen som:
"Somebody has to make a decision, seeing that the top brass is no longer capable of it. I am going to suggest that they set you free with our best wishes and assurances of friendship."
"Think they'll take any notice?"
"You know quite well they will. You've been counting on it all along." Mordafa eyed him shrewdly. "They'll grab at the advice to restore their self-esteem. If it works, they'll take the credit. If it doesn't, I'll get the blame." He brooded a few seconds, asked with open curiosity, "Do you find it the same elsewhere, among other peoples?"
"Exactly the same," Hillder assured him. "And there is always a Mordafa to settle the issue in the same way. Power and scapegoats go together like husband and wife.