He thought again of what he had discovered that night; of one of the reasons why the Terrans had named their ship _The Cat_. It was not because a cat was a dangerous animal, as he and the others had thought. It was because the mission of _The Cat_ would be to explore in unknown territory, because of an old Terran proverb: _Curiosity killed a cat_. He did not yet understand the second reason behind the name, but the first reason showed that the Terrans were not without a sense of humor. How long had it been since he had heard a Tharnarian laugh at himself, at his own failings or possibility of failure? Never. Yet--wasn't that pride? What was wrong with the high-headed pride that admitted no inferiority, no failure? Wasn't fifty thousand years of civilization something of which to be extremely proud? _Thirty-three five._ He went to the window and pressed the button that would open it against the mechanical will of the automatic health-guard equipment. It slid open and he breathed the cool, moist air that smelled of wet earth and grass and the odor of the _lana_ tree flowers; flowers that were closed against the rain and would not open until the sun came out. The City was quiet in the gray of the morning. He could see one pedestrian and three moving vehicles in the entire visible portion of the City. The City, like the flowers of the _lana_ trees, would not open into life until the storm was over and the sun was shining again. _Thirty-three nine._ The City, like the flowers of the _lana_ trees. The beauty and perfection of them both was the result of fifty thousand years of breeding to bring about that perfection. The City, like the flowers of the _lana_ trees.... But flowers were without purpose; were only--vegetation. And what was the purpose of the City? He did not know. He was the Supreme Executive of Tharnar, and he did not know. _Thirty-three ten._ He went back to his desk and switched on the three-dimensional projection of the scene that would be taking place in the courtyard behind the prison. The man and girl stood chained to the wall and the robots were waiting for the third and last command from the guard leader, the blasters in their hands as steady as though held in vises and their metal faces impassive. He increased the magnification of the scene, drawing the images of the man and girl closer to him. There was no reading the man's face, other than the hardness and lack of fear. But on the face of the girl was a defiance that seemed to shine like a radiance about her. He was reminded of the physical similarity between the barbarian girl and his daughter. But now the similarity had faded to a shadow. There was something vital and alive about the barbarian girl, there was a beauty to her in the way she waited for death that was strange and wild by Tharnarian standards. What had Thralna said the night before? "... _Whenever I think of how they might escape and get into the City, it frightens me._" --_it frightens me_--