After a moment Rynason turned back to the girl; she was still watching
Malhomme thread his way through the men on his way to the door.

"So now you've met my spiritual father," he said.

Her deep brown eyes flickered back to his. "I wish I could use a
telepather on him. I'd like to know how he really thinks."

"He thinks exactly as he speaks," Rynason said. "At least, at the moment
he says something, he believes in it."

She smiled. "I suppose that's the only possible explanation for him."
She was silent for a moment, her face thoughtful. Then she said, "He
didn't finish his drink."

* * * * *

"You're all hooked up," the girl said. "Nod or something when you're
ready." She was bent over the telepather, double checking the
connectives and the blinking meters. Rynason and Horng sat opposite each
other, the huge dark mound of the alien looming silently over the
Earthman.

He never seemed upset, Rynason thought, looking up at him. Except for
that one time when they'd run into the stone wall of the block on
Tebron, Horng had displayed a completely even temperament--unruffled,
calm, almost disinterested. But of course if the aliens had been
completely uninterested in the Earthmen's probings at their history they
would never have cooperated so readily; the Hirlaji were not animals to
be ordered about by the Earthmen. Probably the codification of their