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'And yet we fought. For centuries past, we had been groping toward the elements of atomic power, and slowly the spark of hope had glimmered that we might break through the two-dimensional limits of our planetary surface and reach the stars. There were no other planets in our system to serve as stepping stones. Nothing but some twenty light-years to the nearest star, without the knowledge of the possibility of the existence of other planetary systems, but rather of the contrary.

'But there is something in all life that insists on striving; even on useless striving. There were only five thousand of us left in the last days. Only five thousand. And our first ship was ready. It was experimental. It would probably have been a failure. But already we had all the principles of propulsion and navigation correctly worked out.'

There was a long pause, and the Cepheid's small black eyes seemed glazed in retrospect.

The newspaperman put in suddenly, from his corner, 'And then we came?'

'And then you came,' the Cepheid agreed simply. 'It changed everything. Energy was ours for the asking. A new world, congenial and, indeed, ideal, was ours even without asking. If our problems of society had long been solved by ourselves, our more difficult problems of environment were suddenly solved for us, no less completely.'

'Well?' urged Antyok.

'Well - it was somehow not well. For centuries, our ancestors had fought toward the stars, and now the stars suddenly proved to be the property of others. We had fought for life, and it had become a present handed to us by others. There is no longer any reason to fight. There is no longer anything to attain. All the universe is the property of your race.'

'This world is yours,' said Antyok, gently.

'By sufferance. It is a gift. It is not ours by right'

'You have earned it, in my opinion.'

And now the Cepheid's eyes were sharply fixed on the other's countenance, 'You mean well, but I doubt that you understand. We have nowhere to go, save this gift of a world. We are in a blind alley. The function of life is striving, and that is taken from us. Life can no longer interest us. We have no offspring - voluntarily. It is our way of removing ourselves from your way.'

Absent-mindedly, Antyok had removed the fluoro-globe from the window seat, and spun it on its base. Its gaudy surface reflected light as it spun, and its three-foot-high bulk floated with incongruous grace and lightness in the air.

Antyok said, 'Is that your only solution? Sterility?'

'We might escape still,' whispered the Cepheid, 'but where in the Galaxy is there place for us? It is all yours.'

'Yes, there is no place for you nearer than the Magellame Clouds if you wished independence. The Magellanic Clouds -'

'And you would not let us go of yourselves. You mean kindly, I know.'

'Yes, we mean kindly - but we could not let you go.'

'It is a mistaken kindness.'

'Perhaps, but could you not reconcile yourselves? You have a world.'

'It is something past complete explanations. Your mind is different. We could not reconcile ourselves. I believe, administrator, that you have thought of all this before. The concept of the blind alley we find ourselves trapped in is not new to you.'

Antyok looked up, startled, and one hand steadied the fluoro-globe, 'Can you read my mind?'

'It is just a guess. A good one, I think.'

'Yes - but can you read my mind? The minds of humans in general, I mean. It is an interesting point. The scientists say you cannot, but sometimes I wonder if it is that you simply will not. Could you answer that? I am detaining you, unduly, perhaps.'

'No… no -' But the little Cepheid drew his enveloping robe closer, and buried his face in the electrically-heated pad at the collar for a moment. 'You other-worldlings speak of reading minds. It is not so at all, but it is assuredly hopeless to explain.'

Antyok mumbled the old proverb, 'One cannot explain sight to a man blind from birth.'

'Yes, just so. This sense which you call "mind reading," quite erroneously, cannot be applied to us. It is not that we cannot receive the proper sensations, it is that your people do not transmit them, and we have no way of explaining to you how to go about it.'

'Hm-m-m.'

'There are times, of course, of great concentration or emotional tension on the part of an other-worldling when some of us who are more expert in this sense; more sharp-eyed, so to speak; detect vaguely something. It is uncertain; yet I myself have at times wondered -'

Carefully, Antyok began spinning the fluoro-globe once more. His pink face was set in thought, and his eyes were fixed upon the Cepheid. Gustiv Bannerd stretched his fingers and reread his notes, his lips moving silently.

The fluoro-globe spun, and slowly the Cepheid seemed to grow tense as well, as his eyes shifted to the colorful sheen of the globe's fragile surface.

The Cepheid said, 'What is that?'

Antyok started, and his face smoothed into an almost chuckling placidity, 'This? A Galactic fad of three years ago; which means that it is a hopelessly old-fashioned relic this year. It is a useless device but it looks pretty. Bannerd, could you adjust the windows to non-transmission?'

There was the soft click of a contact, and the windows became curved regions of darkness, while in the center of the room, the fluoro-globe was suddenly the focus of a rosy effulgence that seemed to leap outward in streamers. Antyok, a scarlet figure in a scarlet room, placed it upon the table and spun it with a hand that dripped red. As it spun, the colors changed with a slowly increasing rapidity, blended and fell apart into more extreme contrasts.

Antyok was speaking in an eerie atmosphere of molten, shifting rainbow, 'The surface is of a material that exhibits variable fluorescence. It is almost weightless, extremely fragile, but gyroscopically balanced so that it rarely falls, with ordinary care. It is rather pretty, don't you think?'

From somewhere the Cepheid's voice came, 'Extremely pretty.'

'But it has outworn its welcome; outlived its fashionable existence.'

The Cepheid's voice was abstracted, 'It is very pretty.'

Bannerd restored the light at a gesture, and the colors faded.

The Cepheid said, 'That is something my people would enjoy.' He stared at the globe with fascination.

And now Antyok rose. 'You had better go. If you stay longer, the atmosphere may have bad effects. I thank you humbly for your kindness.'

'I thank you humbly for yours.' The Cepheid had also risen.

Antyok said, 'Most of your people, by the way, have accepted our offers to them to study the make-up of our modern spaceships. You understand, I suppose, that the purpose was to study the reactions of your people to our technology. I trust that conforms with your sense of propriety.'

'You need not apologize. I, myself, have now the makings of a human pilot. It was most interesting. It recalls our own efforts - and reminds us of how nearly on the right track we were.'

The Cepheid left, and Antyok sat, frowning.

'Well,' he said to Bannerd, a little sharply. 'You remember our agreement, I hope. This interview can't be published.'

Bannerd shrugged, 'Very well.'

Antyok was at his seat, and his fingers fumbled with the small metal figurine upon his desk, 'What do you think of all this, Bannerd?'

'I am sorry for them. I think I understand how they feel. We must educate them out of it. The Philosophy can do it.'

'You think so?'

'Yes.'

'We can't let them go, of course.'

'Oh, no. Out of the question. We have too much to learn from them. This feeling of theirs is only a passing stage. They'll think differently, especially when we allow them the completest independence.'

'Maybe. What do you think of the fluoro-globes, Bannerd? He liked them. It might be a gesture of the right sort to order several thousand of them. The Galaxy knows, they're a drug on the market right now, and cheap enough.'

'Sounds like a good idea,' said Bannerd.

'The Bureau would never agree, though. I know them.'

The newsman's eyes narrowed, 'But it might be just the thing. They need new interests.'

'Yes? Well, we could do something. I could include your transcript of the interview as part of a report and just emphasize the matter of the globes a bit. After all, you're a member of the Philosophy and might have influence with important people, whose word with the Bureau might carry much more weight than mine. You understand-?' 'Yes,' mused Bannerd. 'Yes.'

 From:,AdHQ-Cephl8

 To: BuOuProv

 Subject: OuProv Project 2910, Part II; Birth rate of non-Humans on Cepheus 18, Investigation of.

Reference:

(a) BuOuProv letr. Cep-N-CM/car, 115097, dated 223/977 G.E.

Enclosure:

1. Transcript of conversation between L. Antyok of AdHQ-Ceph18, and Ni-San, High Judge of the non-Humans on Cepheus 18.

1. Enclosure 1 is forwarded herewith for the information of the BuOuProv.