In the small patrol ship, Alayna sat beside Roal watching the sunrise on the desert. Her eyes were dew-bright and she seemed at once glad and shy. "I've found out one thing that made me glad," she said. "What's that?" "My father was not a dope addict as I had believed. The Martians could never force it upon him and so they had to change his brain instead. I know that what I did was not under compulsion of the Thousand Minds." Roal smiled down at her. She must be reading his thoughts, he supposed. "Your father was a great man," he said. "He tried to solve a problem that the human race has muffed for ten thousand years, the problem of how to make it possible for incompatible races to live together." "Perhaps he accomplished something. This conflict will bring the problem to light. I think Earth will find a solution." "The Martians will go the way of the Indian. Perhaps we may eventually find some worthless, barren planet and put a few hundred of them there on a reservation. But the problem is as old as man. There can be no solution. The strong overcomes the weak and man calls it progress." "Some day there'll be a solution." "You're a dreamer like your father. Don't ever lose sight of your dreams. That's the only thing that makes life worth while." "Dreams sometimes come true, don't they?" Roal drew her tight, drinking in her loveliness with his eyes. "I think mine is going to," he said slowly.