use his talents on tightening up the survey itself. He's forcing a
premature report, and it isn't going to be worth much."

"Is that what's really bothering you?" she asked.

He tried to focus on her through the haze of the noisy bar. "Of course
it is. That, and his whole attitude toward these people."

"The Hirlaji? Are they people to you?"

He shrugged. "What are people? Humans? Or reasoning beings you can talk
to, communicate with?"

"I should think people would be reasoning beings you could relate to,"
she said softly. "Not just intellectually, but emotionally too. You have
to be able to understand them to communicate that way--that's what makes
people."

Rynason was silent, trying to integrate that into the fog in his head.
The raucous noise of the bar had faded into an underwater murmur around
him, lost somewhere where he could not see.

Finally, he said, "That's the trouble with them, the Hirlaji. I can't
really understand them. It's like there's really no contact, not even
through the interpreter." He stared into his drink. "I wish to hell we
had some straight telepathers here; they might work with the Hirlaji,
since they're telepathic anyway. I'd like to make a direct link myself."

After a moment he felt Mara's hand on his arm, and realized that he had
almost fallen asleep on the table.