There was a subtle change in the voice of the Moderator when he answered. It was ringing, hard. "As I said, we foresaw this crisis. To discourage stellar travel we planted a pathologic fear of deep space in the humanoid subconscious. "Certain of their discoveries we have suppressed. Notably, the space-time stellar drive. The Little Death, as you call it, has been discovered three separate times in the past thousand years." "What?" "Yes. Are you surprised? Once by an unknown scientist, once by a physicist, Dr. Walter, and lastly by Dr. Villainowski." Although Saxon still held the alien weapon, he had the uncomfortable sensation that a trap had been sprung and the Moderator was only waiting for it to close on him. With a suffocating tenseness, he asked, "What am I?" "You," said the Moderator, "are a test experiment!" "What?" "A test experiment. On your psychological reactions will depend the ultimate fate of the humanoids!" "A test experiment," he repeated dazedly. "What do you mean?" "Simply this. For some time we've realized that steps must be taken to curb the rapaciousness of the humanoids." "But me...." The Moderator held up his hand. "I'm coming to you. If the ruthless savagery of the humanoids was instinctive, part of their heredity, there was little that could be done except destroy them. "But if, on the other hand, their natures resulted from the pressure of their environment, we might be able to modify that environment and salvage our experiment." "But what the hell am I? What did you mean when you said I was a test experiment?" The Moderator seemed to have forgotten the existence of Saxon's weapon. He tugged at his lower lip with thumb and forefinger. "You are not a humanoid. You are one of us, a Varkan. We placed you as a baby on Earth to be raised as a humanoid." "I was eleven," protested Saxon. "A mere baby still, with psychological plasticity." The Moderator waved the objection aside. "If your disposition hardened into humanoid characteristics, then we would be safe in assuming that the humanoids, too, were a product of their environment. "Of course, there were factors we couldn't control. The natural unfolding of your sixth and seventh senses in early childhood--" Saxon burst out, "But I was twenty-seven when I developed a sixth sense and thirty-one--" "My son, that's quite true. But you're only in your adolescence now." "At thirty-eight," said Saxon in disbelief, "I'm an adolescent?" The Moderator nodded. "And precocious at that!" Ileth giggled again nervously. * * * * * Saxon gave a short laugh. He had a feeling that he had been stuffed too full of information. He couldn't digest it. In spite of the suspicions he had entertained concerning his birth, he was unable to really believe that he was an Alien! He glanced suddenly at Ileth. The girl had shrunk away from him as if he were a leper. Her hazel-green eyes were horrified. All at once, she began to cry.