Vocation By GEORGE O. SMITH Illustrated by Williams [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Astounding Science-Fiction, April 1945. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Gerd Lel Rayne stood in the arched doorway of the living room of his home and smiled at the Terran. Andrew Tremaine smiled up at his host with an almost microscopic feeling of annoyance. The Terran was a large man, well proportioned, but the other was somewhat larger and somewhat in better proportion. The annoyance was the usual jealousy of the better man. Tremaine knew that Gerd was a better man, and he stifled his feeling of annoyance because hating Gerd was unjust. Besides, Tremaine wanted a favor and one does not irritate a favor-giver. Gerd Lel Rayne was of a breed that could know when a man disliked him no matter how well it was concealed. Therefore-- Andrew smiled. "You've been well?" "Positively dripping with good health," boomed Gerd in a resonant voice. "And yourself?" "Fair to middling." "Good. I'm glad to hear it. Will you have refreshment?" "A cigarette, perhaps." Gerd opened an ornate box on the table and offered Andrew a cigarette. Andrew puffed it into illumination and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Busy?" he asked. "Yes," drawled Gerd. "I'm always busy, more or less. But being busy or un-busy is my own desire. Being without something to do would drive me crazy, I'm sure." Gerd laughed at the thought. "At the present time I'm busy seeing you. Is this a business visit or a personal visit?" "Partly pleasure, partly business. There's something been bothering me for some time." "Glad to help--That's what I'm here for, you know." "Now that I'm here," admitted Andrew with some abashment, "I have a feeling that the same question has been asked and answered before. But I want to hear, firsthand, why your race denies us the secret of interstellar travel." "Because you have not developed it yet," said Gerd. "Yes, we could give it to you. You couldn't use it." "You're looking down at us again." "I'm honestly sorry that I give you that opinion. I have no desire to look down at anything or anyone. Please believe me." "But--" "May I offer an hypothetical case?" asked Gerd, and then went on because he knew the answer to his own question: "A hundred years ago, the Terrans were living without directive power. You used solar phoenix power. It brought you out of the mire of wire and machinery under which Terra writhed. You were, you thought, quite advanced. You were. But, Andy, could you have used directives? Supposing that I had given you the secret of directive power? What would have happened?" "Um--Trouble, perhaps. But with supervision?"