uctures to the sky. The sharp-pointed buildings could
be seen to be interlaced with countless spidery cables and glistening
bridges.

For Dollard's observing eyes, the vista of the metropolis evoked--by
some indefinable ancient suggestiveness--a buried Terran memory of a
giant banyan tree pierced by lean striped bamboos.

"Bengul, our capital," Shir K'han told him. "This way, now." He
pointed to a waiting air vehicle on the lonely drome. "In there--and
you'll only have five more minutes." The feline nostrils wrinkled.

"Five more minutes?" said Dollard. "Aren't you going?"

"No, I wasn't invited."

"I'm to go alone?"

"Yes," Shir K'han replied. The prolonged effort of speaking in a
strange tongue was reflected in his increasingly roughened tones.
"I've been ordered to put you in the cage-flier. Then, my job is done.
The cage will transfer you to the leaders' quarters--where all else
will be done. Farewell, primate. It has been interesting. I could
almost swear that...."

He paused.

"Something troubling you?" said Dollard, who didn't usually concern
himself with other persons' inner disturbances. He wondered now what
instinct prompted this particular inquiry of solicitude on his part.

"You trouble me," replied Shir K'han. "I would almost swear you had ... a
high intelligence ... and a soul worthy of a Tegurian. But, of course, I
know that isn't so."

"That's not what I meant," Dollard said, fretfully. "There's something
else--" For a moment, he felt like screaming, "--something you haven't
told me."

"Would you really like to know?" said Shir K'han. "I had thought it
was better you didn't. But, then I have often been accused of strange
sympathies for a Tegurian--"

"I demand to know."

"Then, I must hurry. Only a few minutes remain. Let me try to draw you
a mental picture, primate. Your race, like ours, was carnivorous. You
feasted on many delicacies--on species extinct like the steer, the
pheasant, the squirrel. It was your very nature, your undeniable
primal instincts, that made you enjoy the rending and devouring of
flesh--"

"True," admitted Dollard. His body was now trembling.

"I remember," continued Shir K'han, "one of our archeologists
translated an account of how the primates of your time unearthed the
body of a mastodon, buried in the glacial ice. The mastodon flesh, a
delicacy, was so well-preserved that it was still edible. And so, it
was eaten."

"I--I don't think I understand what y