"When you first landed, we realized that you came from a relatively immature culture because you made no response to our telepathy of welcome. We did our best after that to simplify your adjustment to our way of life, because we knew you would have to stay among us. Of course, we never really learned your language; we simply gave you the illusion that we had. Nor is there any such thing as a council of elders; we had to invent that to satisfy you. We truly wanted you to stay among us. In time you could have grown up enough--most of you--to live with us as equals. We knew it would be disastrous for you to carry back to your world your idea of how we live. We are the tomorrow of your people; you must grow up to us. There is no other way to maturity. We could not, of course, keep you here against your will. Nor could we let you go back, like a poison, into your world. We could do nothing else but use this drug. The impact of civilization upon a primitive people like yours...." The words hazed and faded as the note disintegrated. Lord felt a moment of desperate yearning, a terrible weight of grief. With an effort he pushed himself from his chair and pulled open the door into the corridor. He had to order the ship back while he could still remember; he had to find Niaga and tell her ... ... tell her. Tell whom? Tell what? Lord stood in the corridor staring blankly at the metal wall. He was just a little puzzled as to why he was there, what he had meant to do. He saw Ann Howard coming toward him. "Did you notice the lurch in the ship, Mr. Lord?" she asked. "Yes, I suppose I did." Was that why he had left his cabin? "I thought we were having trouble with the time-power calibration, but I checked with Don and he says everything's all right." She glanced through the open door of his cabin at the electronic pattern on the scanning screen. "Well, we'll be home in another twenty hours, Mr. Lord. It's a pity we didn't contact any new planets on this mission. It would have been a good experience for you." "Yes, I rather hoped so, too." He went back to his desk. Strange, he couldn't remember what it was he had wanted to do. He shrugged his shoulders and laughed a little to himself. It definitely wouldn't do--not at all--for a Lord to have lapses of memory. THE END TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES This etext was produced from Amazing Science Fiction Stories, January 1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. The following corrections have been applied to the text: Page 9: money has no meaning to these people and, if Don intends to stay here, it won't mean much to him,{superfluous quotation mark removed} either." Page 9: "I'm sure you can get help from this--" her{original had Her} lip curled{original had a period here} "--this native girl of yours. What's her name?"