"Yes," Walton said. "It's a perfect world for our purposes. But Colonel McLeod has informed me that you object to our settling there." "We do so object." The Dirnan's voice was cold. "You are a young and active race. We do not know what danger you may bring to us. To have you as our neighbors--" "We could swear a treaty of eternal peace," Walton said. "Words. Mere words." "But don't you see that we can't even _land_ on that planet of yours! It's too big, too heavy for us. What possible harm could we do?" "There are races," said the Dirnan heavily, "which believe in violence as a sacred act. You have long-range missiles. How might we trust you?" Walton squirmed; then sudden inspiration struck him. "There's a planet in this system that's as suitable for your people as Labura is for ours. I mean Jupiter. We could offer you colonial rights to Jupiter in exchange for the privilege of colonizing Labura!" The alien was silent for a moment. Considering? There was no way of telling what emotions passed across that face. At length the alien said, "Not satisfactory. Our people have long since reached stability of population. We have no need of colonies. It has been many thousands of your years since we have ventured into space." Walton felt chilled. _Many thousands of years!_ He realized he was up against a formidable life form. "We have learned to stabilize births and deaths," the Dirnan went on sonorously. "It is a fundamental law of the universe, and one that you Earthfolk must learn sooner or later. How you choose to do it is your own business. But we have no need of planets in your system, and we fear allowing you to enter ours. The matter is simple of statement, difficult of resolution. But we are open to suggestions from you." Walton's mind blanked. Suggestions? What possible suggestion could he make? He gasped. "We have something to offer," he said. "It might be of value to a race that has achieved population stability. We would give it to you in exchange for colonization rights." "What is this commodity?" the Dirnan asked. "Immortality," Walton said. XIX He returned to New York alone, later that night, too tired to sleep and too wide awake to relax. He felt like a poker player who had triumphantly topped four kings with four aces, and now was fumbling in his hand trying to locate some of those aces for his skeptical opponents. The alien had accepted his offer. That was the one solid fact he was able to cling to, on the lonely night ride back from Nairobi. The rest was a quicksand of ifs and maybes. _If_ Lamarre could be found.... _If_ the serum actually had any value.... _If_ it was equally effective on Earthmen and Dirnans.... Walton tried to dismiss the alternatives. He had made a desperately wild offer, and it had been accepted. New Earth was open for colonization, _if_....