"But we are not masters," Cadnan said, with the air of a person trying to bring reason back to the discussion. "We do not look like masters, and we do not know what they know." "You want to learn," Marvor said. "Then learn what they know." "They teach me," Cadnan said. "But I am still a slave, because they teach me. I do not teach them." Marvor hissed and at the same time shook his head like a master. The effect was not so much frightening as puzzling: he was a creature, suddenly, who belonged to both worlds, and to neither. "A master is one who does what he wants," he said. "If I do what I want, am I a master?" "That is silliness," Cadnan said. Marvor seemed about to reply, but both were surprised instead by the opening of the door. A master stood in the lighted entrance, holding to the sides with both hands. Anyone with a thorough knowledge of men could have told that he was drunk. Any being with a sense of smell could have detected the odors of that drunkenness. But the Alberts knew only that a master had come to them during the time for eating and sleeping. They stirred, murmuring restlessly. "It's all right," the master said, slurring his words only very slightly. "I wanted to come and talk. I wanted to talk to one of you." Before anyone else could move, Cadnan was upright. "I will talk," he said in a loud voice. The others stared at him, including Marvor. Even Cadnan himself was a little surprised at his own speed and audacity. "Come on over," the master said from the doorway. "Come on over." He made a beckoning motion. Cadnan picked his way across the room over wakeful Alberts. When he had reached the master, the master said: "Sit down." He looked strange, Cadnan realized, though he could not tell exactly how. Cadnan sat and the master, closing the door, sat with his back against it. There was a second of silence, which the master broke abruptly. "My name's Dodd," he said. * * * * * "I am called Cadnan," Cadnan said. He couldn't resist bringing out his latest bit of knowledge for display. "I am a slave." "Sure," Dodd said dully. "I know. The rest of them say I shouldn't, but I think about you a lot. About all of you." Cadnan, not knowing if this were good or bad, said nothing at all, but waited. Dodd sighed, shook his head and closed his eyes. After a second he went on. "They tell me, let the slaves have their own life," he said. "But I don't see it that way. Do you see it that way? After all, you're people, aren't you? Just like us." Cadnan tried to untangle the questions, and finally settled for a simple answer. "We are slaves," he said. "You are masters." "Sure," Dodd said. "But I mean people. And you want the same things we do. You want a little comfort out of life, a little security--some food, say, and enough food for tomorrow. Right?" "It is good to have," Cadnan said. He was determined to keep his end of the odd conversation up, even if it seemed to be leading nowhere.