slightly recessive. With Receptives, it was just a little bit Dominant.

He watched the monstrous blotch of the red star, swelling and crimson,
old and fading, yet filling a quarter of the sky, like a fat old man,
getting fatter while his brain rotted away in his skull.

He turned as the door opened. His breath shortened as she came toward
him. Smith rubbed his bald pate, and felt the heat rise to his face.

"You made a fool of me, Smith," she whispered. "Now you're blushing ...
and that's just an act isn't it? You're still making a fool of me."

"No," he said. "The way I felt about you and the things I said, I meant
them. I still do."

"But you let me use that psi-power on you ... and ... and if you'd
wanted to ... you could have...." He stared. She was sobbing a little.

He had felt it before, but the feeling was strong enough now to motivate
action. He put his arms about her, protectively. He looked out the
window at the cragged horizon and the dying red star behind.

"The psi-power," he said. "I didn't realize I had it then. When you used
it ... and later, the dream-empathy, it stirred up a lot of old
capacities. I wasn't trying to fool anyone. I love you, Geria of
Bortinot. And I'm not fooling...."

"_Your decision, Smith of Earth...._"

Well, he had learned a great deal about Galactic culture, so what should
he do? A duty to Earth, to civilization. He had learned:

... That the superior cultures out here among the stars were a myth.

... That something had gone haywire in the startrails, that everyone you
met was either psychotic or highly neurotic by Earth standards.

... That the exceptions might be the hope of the Galaxy. But they were
very few.

... That Earth had better seek out the reasons for all this, try to
eliminate them at their sources if possible, but certainly keep them
from contaminating the home planet.

... That Earth had a big job, but if he came back and reported and
worked at it, he might convince Earth she was up to it.

That was one way.

"_Your decision, Smith of Earth, the battery of tests or...._"

She was looking up at him. "Well?"

"What do you think, Geria?"

She put her face against his chest. "Whatever you decide," she
whispered. "You're the Dominant...."

He smiled at the banks of lights. "When's the next ship for Deneb?" he
asked. "We're going back to Earth."

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Earthsmith, by Milton Lesser

*** END OF THIS PROJE