On the fourth day they worked eleven planets; the fifth day saw the forty-sixth planet done and the immediate job finished. All during supper, it was very evident that Belle had something on her mind. After eating, she went out into the Main and slumped down on a davenport. Garlock followed her. A cigarette leaped out of a closed box and into place between her lips. It came alight. She smoked it slowly, without relish; almost as though she did not know that she was smoking. "Might as well get it out of your system, Belle," Garlock said aloud. "What are you thinking about at the moment?" Belle exhaled; the half-smoked butt vanished. "At the moment I was thinking about Gunther blocks. Specifically, their total inability to cope with that new Prime probe of yours." She stared at him, narrow-eyed. "It goes through them just like nothing at all." She paused; eyed him questioningly. "No comment." "And yet you gave it to me. Freely, of your own accord. Even before I needed it. Why?" "Still no comment." "You'd better comment, Buster, before I blow my top." "There is such a thing as urbanity." "I've heard of it, yes; even though you never did believe I ever had any. You _talk_ a good game of urbanity, but your brand of it would never carry you _that_ far...." She paused. He remained silent. She went on. "Of course, it does put a lot of pressure on me to develop myself." "I'm glad you used the word 'develop' instead of 'treat.'" "Oh, sometimes--at rare intervals--I'm not exactly dumb. But you knew--you _must_ have known--what a horrible risk you took in making me as tremendously powerful as you are." * * * "Some, perhaps, but very definitely less risky than not doing it." "Getting information out of you is harder than pulling teeth. Clee Garlock, I want you to tell me _why!_" "Very well." Garlock's jaw set. "You've had it in mind all along that this is some kind of a lark; that you and I are Gunther Tops of the universe. Or did that belief weaken a bit when we met Baver 14WD27?" "Well, perhaps--a little. However, the probability is becoming greater with every planet we visit. After all, _some_ race has to be tops. Why _shouldn't_ it be us?" "_What_ a logic--excuse me, skip it...." "Oh, you really _meant_ it when you said you weren't going to fight with me any more?" "I'm going to try not to. Now, remembering that I don't consider your premise valid, just suppose that when we visit some planet some day, you get your mind burned out and I don't--solely because I had something I could have given you and wouldn't. What then?" "Oh. I thought that was what you ... but suppose I can't...." "We won't suppose anything of the kind. But that wasn't all that was on your mind. Nor most."