our pleadings,
it would be still less.

"The masters often send emissaries to us, as we send ours to the planets
of Sol. They help and advise us--not as superior beings or as gods,
commanding--but as elder brothers, trying to share their wisdom, trying
to help and guide us. They only help and advise, never intervene unless
asked. Their advice is wisdom--sometimes terrible, difficult to
understand, painful to accept. Recently, they brought a message from the
other peoples--a message and ultimatum. And the Masters advised us to
accept failure, to let them destroy humanity as a blot on the galaxy. We
begged one more chance, a last, desperate gamble, probably foredoomed to
failure. But they granted us the painful right of the doctor. We can
operate, but if the patient dies, so do we. That was our choice."

* * * * *

As she talked, Songeen had engaged herself busily with the queerly
formal operations of tracing the intricate diagrams.

"Do you believe me?" she asked, looking up.

"I'm not sure," Newlin replied frankly. "Are these Masters your gods?"

"Not gods. Living, intelligent beings, civilized, but not like us. Not
material. I cannot explain. Even they are but advisers and messengers.
Not all-wise, nor all-powerful. I wish they were; for they are kind."

"You sound like nice people," Newlin admitted. "I wish I could believe
you. Off-hand, I think you're crazy. You say we're all off the beam.
Then you talk like delusions of grandeur, and I have reason to know you
can be homicidal. One of us is nuts. It's a toss-up."

Songeen smiled wearily. "It is possible that I am infected. I am
inoculated against it, but so was Genarion. Will you believe that I
loved him? He was my husband. We were children together, like brother
and sister. Later, we were schooled together, were married, and asked to
be assigned our task together. I did not sentence him, and I would have
died myself first. But he had been here too long. If he had gone back,
the contagion would have gone with him. It was fated. You and I were
mere tools. Weapons."

"I'm sorry, Songeen. I do believe you loved him."

She shook her head in curious ruffle of emotion. "He was not the first.
Many of our kind have renounced their birthright to go among your
people, become like you and share your hideous lives. They are part of
your great religions, part of the legendary history of your races."

Silence fell between them. Newlin tho