"That's what I mean." Lanko nodded emphatically. "'Just a period.' Only ten or twelve normal lifetimes for our kind of people. And his civilization's just as old compared to ours as he is compared to us—older, even.
"During that period he was so casual about, he was learning—practicing with his mind, so that the older citizens of the galaxy could make full contact with him without fear of injuring his mentality. He was learning concepts that he wouldn't dare even suggest to you or to me. Finally, after a few more periods, he'll begin to become mature. Do you think we could pick up all the knowledge and training back of his handling of technical equipment in a mere ten years of training?"
Banasel reached up, taking the small circlet from his head. He held it in his hand, looking at it with increased respect.
"You know," he admitted, "I really hadn't thought of it that way. They taught me to repair these things, among other pieces of equipment, and most of the construction is actually simple. They taught me a few uses for it, and I thought I understood it.
"Of course, I knew we were in contact with an advanced culture, and I knew that most of those guys we treated so casually had something that took a long time in the getting, but I didn't stop to think of the real stretch of time and study involved." He leaned back, replacing the mentacom on his head. "Somehow, they didn't make it apparent."
"Of course they didn't." Lanko spread his hands a little. "One doesn't deliberately give children a feeling of inferiority."
"Yeah. Will we ever learn?"
"Some. Some day. But we've got a long, lonely road to travel first." Lanko stood up and adjusted the communicator.
"Right now, though, we'd better keep tabs on Musa. In fact, we'd better follow him when he leaves here."