“Maybe this spacer’s a lie too. Her ancestors came in it--a pair of humans named Alfred and Melissa Weygand. They were Christian missionaries from a planet called Heaven out in Ophiuchus Sector. Went out to convert aliens and landed here when their fuel ran out.” Kennon paused. “That was about four millennia ago. Their descendants, naturally, reverted to barbarism in a few generations, but there’s enough evidence in the ship to prove that the Lani were their children.” “But the tails--the differences--the failure of the test,” Douglas said. “Mutation,” Kennon replied. “Those old spindizzy converters weren’t too choosy about how they scattered radiation. And they had come a long way.” He paused, looking down at Douglas, feeling a twinge of pity for the man. His world was crumbling. “And there was no other human blood available to filter out their peculiarities. It might have been done during the first couple of generations, but constant inbreeding fixed the genetic pattern.” “How did you discover this?” Douglas asked. “Accident,” Kennon said briefly. “You’ll never be able to prove they’re human!” Douglas said. “The ship’s log will do that.” “Not without a humanity test--they can’t pass that.” “Sorry to disappoint you. Your grandfather used the wrong sort of sperm. Now if there had been a Betan in the crew--” “You mean she’s pregnant!” Kennon nodded. “There’s been mutation on Beta,” he said. “And it’s apparently a similar one to hers. Betan-Lani matings are fertile.” Douglas’s shoulders sagged, and then straightened. “I don’t believe it,” he said. “You’re just a damned sneaking spy. Somehow or other you got a spacer in here after you wormed your way into Cousin Alex’s confidence--and now you’re going to space out with the nucleus of a new farm. Just wait. When Alex learns of this the galaxy’ll be too small to hold you.” “Don’t babble like a fool!” Kennon said with disgust. “How could I land a spacer here without being spotted? You sound like a two-credit novel. And even if I did--would it be a can like this?” Kennon played the torch over the blue-black durilium protruding from the ashes. Douglas’ eyes widened as he took in the details of construction. “What an antique!” he blurted. “Where did you get this can?” “I found it here.” “Tell me another one.” “You won’t believe,” Kennon said flatly, “because you don’t dare believe. You have a mental block. You’ve killed, maimed, tortured-- treated them like animals--and now your mind shrinks from admitting they’re human. You know what will happen if the old court decision is reversed. It will wreck your little empire, dry up your money, break you--and you can’t stand the thought of that. You don’t dare let us leave, yet you can’t stop us because I have your blaster and I’d just as soon shoot you as look at your rotten face. Now get on your feet and start climbing if you want to stay alive. We’re getting out of here, and you’ll fry inside this pit.” “Where are you taking me?”