"I know it, but I've got a lot more data now. And I'm not promising, just trying. Okay? Worth a try?"
"Sure—I'm in favor of anything that has any chance at all of working."
Jumping went on; and Garlock, instead of going abroad on the planets, stayed in the Pleiades and worked.
At Number Forty-three, their reception was of a new kind. They were compatible with the people of this world, but the Inspector advised them against landing.
"I do not forbid you," he explained, carefully. "Our humans are about to destroy themselves with fission and fusion bombs. They send missiles, without warning, against visitors. Thus, the last starship to visit us here disregarded my warning and sent down a sensing device as usual—Engineers do not land on non-telepathic worlds, you know—and it was destroyed."
"You're a Guardian of Humanity," Garlock said. "Can't you straighten people out?"
"Of course not!" The Arpalone was outraged. "We guard humanity against incompatibles and non-humans; but it is not our business to interfere with humanity if it wishes to destroy itself. That is its privilege and its own business!"
Garlock probed down. "No telepathy, even—not even a Seven. This planet is backward—back to Year One. And nothing but firecrackers—we're going down, aren't we?"
"I'll say we are!" Belle said. "This will break the monotony, at least," and the others agreed.