"Now listen to me carefully, Deg," Professor Carver said. He spoke of the sacred duties of science. Science, he told the medicine man, was above race, above creed, above religion. The advancement of science was above life itself. What did it matter, after all, if a few more Lorayans died? They would die eventually anyhow. The important thing was for Terran science to have a sample of sersee. "It may be as you say," Deg said. "But my choice is clear. As a priest of the Sunniheriat religion, I have a sacred trust to preserve the lives of my people. I cannot go against this trust." He turned and walked off. The Earthmen frustratedly returned to their spaceship. * * * * * After coffee, Professor Carver opened a drawer and took out the manuscript of _Underlying Causes for the Implicit Inferiority of Non-Terran Races_. Lovingly he read over the last chapter, the chapter that dealt with the specialized inferiorities of the Lorayan people. Then he put the manuscript away. "Almost finished, Fred," he told his assistant. "Another week's work, two weeks at the most!" "Um," Fred replied, staring at the village through a porthole. "This will do it," Carver said. "This book will prove, once and for all, the natural superiority of Terrans. We have proven it by force of arms, Fred, and we have proven it by our technology. Now it is proven by the impersonal processes of logic." Fred nodded. He knew the professor was quoting from the book's introduction. "Nothing must interfere with the great work," Carver said. "You agree with that, don't you?" "Sure," Fred said absent-mindedly. "The book comes first. Put the gooks in their place." "Well, I didn't exactly mean that. But you know what I mean. Under the circumstances, perhaps we should forget about sersee. Perhaps we should just finish the job we started." Fred turned and faced his employer. "Professor, how much do you expect to make out of this book?" "Hm? Well, the last did quite well, you will remember. This book should do even better. Ten, perhaps twenty thousand dollars!" He permitted himself a small smile. "I am fortunate, you see, in my subject matter. The general public of Earth seems to be rather interested in it, which is gratifying for a scientist." "Say you even make fifty thousand. Chicken feed! Do you know what we could make on a test tube of sersee?" "A hundred thousand?" Carver said vaguely. "Are you kidding? Suppose a rich guy was dying and we had the only thing to cure him. He'd give everything he owned! Millions!" "I believe you're right," Carver agreed. "And it _would_ be a valuable scientific advancement.... But the medicine man unfortunately won't give us any." "Buying isn't the only way." Fred unholstered his revolver and checked the chambers. "I see, I see," Carver said, his red face turning slightly pale. "But have we the right?" "What do _you_ think?"