Juba's decision held firm within her, for she saw there was no humility in him. He stood there laughing at the dawn, as though he were a very god, and were allowing the earth and sky to draw off their shadows for him, instead of standing in awe and full gratitude for the gift of life, and feeling, as one should, the smallness of a person and the weakness of a person's power, compared with the mighty forces that roll earth and sky into another day. It is in this way, Juba thought, that men seem strong, because they have no knowledge of their own weaknesses. But it is only a seeming strength, since it stems from ignorance, and the flower of it falls early from the bush. Juba did not, however, say all this. Rule d--A man's ego is his most precious possession. "You are very strong," Juba said, her eyes downcast, for he was bare again to the waist, and it had come to her that she would like to string her fingers through the hair on his chest. "Runs in the family," he said carelessly. "But come, I had dinner with you yesterday. Let's have breakfast in my ship today." "I...." What was she afraid of? If he'd meant to do her any violence, he'd have done it already. And this would provide Juba's opportunity--"Yes," she said. "I would be delighted." * * * * * There had to be some talk, and perhaps something else, before she could make her request of him. They had to be friends of some sort before he was at all likely to agree. It is difficult to make conversation with a man. Finally Juba gave up trying to think of something interesting to say and asked, "What is your way of life, that you should be going around by yourself in a space ship?" "My way of life?" He laughed. "It becomes a way of life, doesn't it? Whatever we do ends up enveloping us, doesn't it?" For a man he was thoughtful. "I'm a scout," he said. "I don't know that I chose it as a way of life. I was born into the Solar Federation and I was born male and I grew up healthy and stable and as patriotic as any reasonable person can be expected to be. When war came I was drafted. I volunteered for scouting because the rest of it is dull. War is dull. It is unimaginably dull." "Then why," Juba asked, for she was amazed at this, "do you fight wars?" Again he laughed. Is there anything these men don't laugh at? "That's the riddle of the sphinx." That is _not_ the riddle of the sphinx, but Juba did not correct him. "When you're attacked," he went on, "you fight back." "It could not possibly," Juba said, "be as simple as you make it sound." "Of course, it isn't," he said, and he took two square sheets that looked like papyrus, and put them each in a bowl. "There is the question of what you did, or did not do, that you should be attacked." "And what did you do, or not do, that you should be attacked?"