"Please," he parried, "Don't say it that way. I am as human as you are." Barbara looked at him defensively. "And you're here to prove it?" Scyth blinked. She was rather distractingly direct. "There is no suitable answer to that," he said. "Must I supply one?" Barbara laughed. "Come in, Scyth. Let me offer you the hospitality of a drink." "Pleased," he said, following her into the living room. She waved him into a chair and turned towards the kitchen. When she came back with two highballs, Scyth was relaxed in the loveseat. Barbara noted it with inward amusement and handed him the drink without comment. Scyth sipped the drink first and then took a deep and appreciative drink. "You do have something to offer," he said, not showing his disappointment that Barbara had seated herself in the chair instead of on the loveseat beside him. "That," she said, "makes two items, doesn't it, Scyth?" Scyth knew that he had lost the initiative; Barbara was way ahead of him. He tried another tack: "I came to see how you are making out," he said. "I'm not doing badly." "Is the public aware of the impending event?" "Aware, but not believing. Dusty Britton lost his shirt over this." "He'll get it back," said Scyth. "I'm not concerned over the result. It's happened before and it will probably happen again." "It's more than possible that Dusty will be vindicated but will then be blamed for not doing something about it," said Barbara. "That cannot be helped. Dusty couldn't do anything about it, you know. And if Dusty loses out in the long run, we can't permit the well-being of one lonely man to stand in the way of galactic progress." * * * * * Barbara smiled confidently, but with a slightly sour twist to her pretty lips; it led Scyth to think that there was some derision in her mind. She confirmed it by saying, "Scyth, since you are going on with your program no matter what happens, and your concern about warning the people has worked no matter what happens to Dusty Britton, why do you bother coming back for a look-see?" Scyth squirmed uncomfortably. Despite certain jokes to the contrary, it is not acceptable to confront a desirable young lady of barely speaking acquaintance and flatly state the delicate proposition. The difficulty here was that no matter how he tried, Barbara Crandall was turning the trend of conversation right back onto the old original trail. "You're an actress," he said. "So I'm told." Scyth smiled. "You're popular? You are in demand here?" "I am on my way up," she said. "Barbara, you could be a popular actress, you know." "Someday I shall be. But this does not come overnight, Scyth. It takes work, you know." "I have an idea that the flavor of the foreign often helps." "This is true." "Then I have a suggestion. Why not come along with us back to Marandis? You have youth and beauty and ability and also the exotic flavor. It--"