She answered equably, “Of steam and fire I know something, though not on the earth’s surface, and this is not the time for the telling. But I think that the killing-pens will burn to the water’s edge as the heat increases. As to the Bat-wings, I have lived for many centuries, and I did not know that creatures of such baseness are, or had been. I care nothing for them, except that they should cease to be, and it seems best to me that it should be done quickly. I know that my Leader’s mind is more far-seeing than mine, and that she thought so also. But I think that we have done so much harm that it might not be easy to increase it. I can see that we cannot go on together unless we find some reconciling way when our thoughts differ. Let us do this. We will go to them, and they shall say for themselves what they can say, to which one of us shall answer, and the other shall judge their fate. Which is to question, and which to decide, shall be their own choice; and we will both agree to take the judgment of the other, which we know will be fairly given.” I said, “Come quickly, for the fire increases,” and we ran together. We went round to the entrance, where the sound of my axe-stroke had roused the sleeping guard, the night--it seemed so long!--before, and finding none there to stay us, we climbed some stairs to a platform-grating which extended between the pens. There were five a-side. The floors of them were of loose bars only, and were somewhat higher than the grating on which we stood, so that the Killers could pull out the bars without stooping. The water steamed and bubbled beneath them, and we looked down and saw it below the grating on which we stood. Beyond the pens we saw the open tank extending on every side but that by which we entered. At the farther end was the stone pier which I had seen previously, reaching far out into the deep water. Four of the pens on the left hand were occupied. In each was one of the judges. They crouched dismally on the bars, with wings extended. The heavy dark bald heads, with their cruel horny beaks, were drooping hopelessly forward. Their eyes followed us with an intelligence that seemed afraid to hope, but begged for pity. On the other side, there were three like them, and then two others that could move their wings, and these two were not still, but flopped unceasingly from side to side, sometimes almost reaching to the roof, and then coming down with clumsy flappings. My companion addressed the one with the largest beak, and reached her point very promptly. “My Leader told me of you. It appears from your own tale that you are unfit for life. Do you agree?” He answered, “She was very treacherous, for she let us tell all before she gave any sign that she had a Dweller’s mind.”