Saxon tried to pat her shoulder, but she wrenched away. The action drove a needle of pain into his heart. He realized in a numbed fashion how fond he had grown of the girl. "Fond, hell!" he thought savagely, "I'm in love with her." "My son," came the hated voice of the Moderator, "she is not for you." "What do you mean?" Saxon shouted. The Moderator regarded him a moment, his eyes veiled. Then, "The psychologist is ready to give you his report. As a true human, you have the right to hear it." A shriveled, wrinkled man at the end of the table began to address Saxon in a dry voice. "I've been probing your reactions as the truth was revealed to you. You can understand the importance of an accurate judgment, when you know that the fate of our experiment rests on the manner in which you conformed to a humanoid environment." "Experiment be damned!" Saxon flung out "What about me?" The psychologist permitted himself a vague smile. "Your reactions have been typically humanoid. "You have been bewildered, frightened, angry. "You tried to think first of some way by which you could destroy us. Failing that, you cast about in your mind for some compromise which would cause us to hold our hand until we could be either conquered or wiped out--preferably wiped out. These are typically humanoid reactions to a dangerous foe. "Under the circumstances we can preserve our experiment if we can modify the humanoids' environment." Saxon felt relief. Whatever the Aliens planned, they weren't going to destroy mankind. The psychologist having delivered his report, the Moderator resumed, "It is unfortunate in a way for you, my son, that the test has been so favorable to the humanoids. "They live and die so fast that in a few generations we can correct their savage dispositions. "But you have solidified in the humanoid mould. You will have to undergo a dangerous operation. Our psychologist must induce infantile retrogression in you. When you have been reduced mentally, to the age of eleven, then your re-education can begin. "I'll be perfectly frank. You have about one chance in ten of retaining your sanity. The danger lies in that retrogression once activated in your brain cells. It cannot always be halted." Saxon's laugh was a croak. "You forget I've still the weapon." The Moderator said, "It's time that this nonsense stopped. We've allowed you to retain the cylinder in order to observe your reactions. Look around you!" Saxon spun around. Materializing like gray wraiths, a dozen figures were taking substance behind him. They were all armed with shining cylinders. "Drop it!" commanded the Moderator. Saxon's weapon clanged against the pavement. * * * * * Ileth suppressed a scream, swayed, half fainting. Saxon caught her before she fell. The girl recovered, flung her arms about his neck. "You can't do it!" she stormed at the Elders. "You can't. I love him. I don't care what he is, I love him, I tell you!"