"Not legally. But is it right for a man to set up traps? Is it good and moral for one of your present mental ability to figure the tertiary causes and effects and apply them to time limits? Not only do you make profit, Wanniston, but you set up your contracts so that you inevitably get forfeit-money as well. You think deeper and plan better—"
"And to the winner goes the spoils," laughed Wanniston. "I should lower myself to their level for the sake of helping them? Not I, Gerd Lel Rayne. I am your equal, and you know it."
"I know it. Yet I am not overly avaricious. I am comfortable, doing my job as best I can. I am unique, perhaps, but I do that which I am best fitted for, and I am helping civilization."
Wanniston smiled. "Tremaine wanted galactic power for Terra. Tremaine wanted the ultimate for mankind. He was a complete altruist, I believe. He wanted to raise the whole world to your level."
"An admirable idea, lacking in certain phases of which he could know nothing. Certain phases, Wanniston, of which you are equally ignorant!"
"I shall find out. I shall, if necessary, surpass you, Gerd."
"Quite possible," smiled the emissary. "Quite possible. The capacity of the brain is almost limitless. My race uses more than yours, Wanniston. Eventually we will fill ours more and more as the centuries pass. But remember that we are as much on the way up as your race is. No one should move too fast."
"Why?"
"Because, that way leads to—oblivion."
"Again, why?"