She paused. When she spoke again, it was so obliquely that he did not realize immediately that it was an answer. "Time was when we had more contact with your people. There were many who knew of the xhindi, although few had actually encountered us. It was not difficult for us to get humans to work with us then. But the barbarians took over your world and your people lost the knowledge of how to get through to us. And when they regained it, we were not why they wished to get through. Much of the problem is in making people believe that we exist." He nodded. "The flluska call you demons." "There are still some on Earth who call us demons, Mattern. Your rulers and administrators do not call us demons--no, they are too learned for that--but your Space Service, by means of divers spells and conditionings, prevents most of those who pass through hyperspace from seeing and hearing us. And, of those who do, most are too frightened for negotiation." * * * * * She asked with sorrowful archness, "Are we so terrible in your eyes, Mattern?" "I don't know," he said slowly, bewilderedly. "Sometimes you are, and I know you will be again. But right now, to me you look--almost beautiful." There was silence, and, for a moment, he thought that he had offended her. Then, "Thank you," she said softly. "It is a great compliment." He was anxious to know why they had chosen him as their human representative. "Weren't there any men who did try to get through?" he asked. "A few--a very few--reached this space." She added reluctantly, "Some of them proved to lack stability of substance--" He was angry, at her, and at himself, for not realizing that he had not been chosen. It had merely been a question of survival. "Then you _knew_ what could happen to Schiemann!" "It could have happened to anyone, Mattern. You knew there were risks to be taken. We did not conceal that from you." And that was true. It had not occurred to him that the risks would not be equally shared by all three members of the ship's company. The mbretersha continued: "And others of those who come through go mad. We feared that might happen to you, Mattern." "Others go sane also," he said. "This is the first time that has happened in my experience. But truly, Mattern, a madman would not seek to reach us." "I wonder," Mattern said. "I wonder if anybody but a madman would." This time he had displeased her. There was chill silence, and then: "Time is short. It is best that we return to discussing our business together. Now we will pay you for the merchandise you have brought us with a substance which is stable on Earth--at least it was in times gone by--and which used to become a stuff of considerable value. On your next trip--" "What makes you think there's going to be a next trip? What makes you think I'm going to come back here again?" He would really have to be a madman to go through that all over again.