at they don't learn."

Dana shook her head. "We'll tell them nothing, unless it's safe for them
to know."

"They'll question you, even torture you."

She smiled calmly. "Perhaps they won't. But as a last resort, we can
blank out."

Nehmon's face went white. "You know there is no coming back, once you do
that. You would never regain your memory. You must save it for a last
resort."

Down below on the street the last groups of people were passing; the
last sweet, eerie tones of the concert were rising in the gathering
twilight. Soon the last families would have taken their refuge in the
ships, waiting for Nehmon to trigger the fire bombs to ignite the
beautiful city after the ships started on their voyage. The concerts
were over; there would be long years of aimless wandering before another
home could be found, another planet safe from the Hunters and their
ships. Even then it would be more years before the concerts could again
rise from their hearts and throats and minds, generations before they
could begin work again toward the climactic expression of their
heritage.

Ravdin felt the desolation in the people's minds, saw the utter
hopelessness in the old man's face, and suddenly felt the pressure of
despair. It was such a slender hope, so frail and so dangerous. He knew
of the terrible fight, the war of his people against the Hunters, so
many thousand years before. They had risen together, a common people,
their home a single planet. And then, the gradual splitting of the
nations, his own people living in peace, seeking the growth and beauty
of the arts, despising the bitterness and barrenness of hatred and
killing--and the Hunters, under an iron heel of militarism, of
government for the perpetuation of government, split farther and farther
from them. It was an ever-widening split as the Hunters sneered and
ridiculed, and then grew to hate Ravdin's people for all the things the
Hunters were losing: peace, love, happiness. Ravdin knew of his people's
slowly dawning awareness of the sanctity of life, shattered abruptly by
the horrible wars, and then the centuries of fear and flight, hiding
from the wrath of the Hunters' vengeance. His people had learned much in
those long years. They had conquered disease. They had grown in strength
as they dwindled in numbers. But now the end could be seen, crystal
clear, the end of his people and a ghastly grave.

Nehmon's voice broke the silence. "If you must stay behind, then