"Yes," Wallace said. "Everyone knows what intuition is, and has it to some degree. With no evidence to back up his reasoning a person knows that something is going to happen. Sometimes he can even give exact details. It's a definite, perceivable faculty. Yet no one has ever been able to explain just what it is, or even how it works. But if you looked at it in another way it wouldn't be so mysterious. It's another sense--too deeply buried in our subconscious to be consistently active. Those savages needed it here--fully developed--and nature provided it." Saxton pulled himself up on one elbow. "And with it they can practically see what's going to happen in the future," he finished for Wallace. "They can predict--and be right every time! That's how Al-fin knew it would be safe for us to leave." He paused. "It all fits. I think you've got it." Wallace smiled. "My guess is that they can't see very far into the future. That's why Al-fin was out of breath when he came. By the time he learned about the coming opposition of our ship and the aliens he had to hurry to get to us, and tell us, before it was too late." Wallace rubbed the stubble of whiskers on his chin with his knuckles. "We'll have to report this planet suitable for colonizing," he said. "I hate to think what will happen to those poor savages when civilization moves in. They'll soon lose that future-seeing." Saxton's eyes widened at some inner thought. He sat straight up in his bunk. "Will they?" he asked. "Or will it work the other way? Someday the children of those naked savages may...." He stopped. Wallace recognized the glaze of abstraction that moved over his features. Saxton began to sing a stanza from an old popular song that had recently been revived: "_There's gonna be some changes made...._"