an offer. I wanted to find out the effects on
worlds that had accepted. I learned Janisson VIII was one, so I started
looking."

"I'm so very glad you did, Sherm. You want me to confirm, of course, the
advisability of accepting the offer Liacan has made."

"Confirm--or deny it," said Hockley.

Thar spread his clawlike hands. "Deny it? The most glorious opportunity
a planet could possibly have?"

Something in Thar's voice gave Hockley a sudden chill. "How has it
worked on your own world?"

"Janisson VIII has turned from a slum to a world of mansions. Our
economic problems have been solved. Health and long life are routine.
There is nothing we want that we cannot have for the asking."

"But are you _satisfied_ with it? Is there nothing which you had to give
up that you would like returned?"

Waldon Thar threw back his head and laughed in high pitched tones. "I
might have known that would be the question you would ask! Forgive me,
friend Sherman, but I had almost forgotten how unventuresome you are.

"Your question is ridiculous. Why should we wish to go back to our
economic inequalities, poverty and distress, our ignorant plodding
research in science? You can answer your own question."

They were silent for a moment. Hockley thought his friend would have
gladly terminated their visit right there and returned to his ship. To
forestall this, he leaned across the table and asked, "Your
science--what has become of that?"

"Our science! We never had any. We were ignorant children playing with
mud and rocks. We knew nothing. We had nothing. Until the Rykes offered
to educate us."

"Surely you don't believe that," said Hockley quietly. "The problem you
worked on at the Institute--gravity at micro-cosmic levels. That was not
a childish thing."

Thar laughed shortly and bitterly. "What disillusionment you have
coming, friend Sherman! If you only knew how truly childish it was. Wait
until you learn from the Rykes the true conception of gravity, its
nature and the part it plays in the structure of matter."

Hockley felt a sick tightening within him. This was not the Waldon Thar,
the wild demon who thrust aside all authority and rumor in his own
headlong search for knowledge. It couldn't be Thar who was sitting
passively by, being _told_ what the nature of the Universe is.

"Your scientists--?" Hockley persisted. "What has become of all your
researchers?"

"The answer is the same," said Thar. "We had no science. We