YES.

Rynason felt a thrill go through him. This was what they had all been
searching for--the point in the history of Hirlaj when wars had ceased,
when the Hirlaji had given themselves over to completely peaceful
living. He knew already that the transition had been sharp and sudden.
It was the last question mark in the sketchy history of Hirlaj which the
survey team had compiled since its arrival--how had the Hirlaji managed
so abruptly to establish and maintain an era of peace which had lasted
unbroken to the present?

It was difficult even to think of these huge, slow-moving creatures as
warriors ... but warriors they had been, for thousands of their years,
gradually building their culture and science until, apparently almost
overnight, the wars had ceased. Since then the Hirlaji moved in their
slow way through their world, growing more complacent with the passage
of ancient generations, growing passive, and, eventually, decadent. Now
there were only some two dozen of the race left alive.

They were telepathic, these leathery aliens, and behind those shadowed
eyes they held the entire memories of their race. Experiences
communicated telepathically through the centuries had formed a memory
pool which each of the remaining Hirlaji shared. They could not, of
course, integrate in their own minds all of that immense store of
memories and understand it all clearly ... but the memories were there.

It was at the same time a boon and a trial for Rynason and the rest of
the survey team. They were trained archaeologists ... as well schooled
as possible on the worlds of this far-flung sector near the constantly
outward-moving Edge, the limit of Terran expansion. Rynason could