"I said that I wondered how many men were too successful in mixing nitroglycerine before they had one smart enough to mail the formula to a friend—before he went up. I also wonder how many men tried Ben Franklin's experiment with the kite and—really got electricity out of the clouds and right through his body and was found slightly electrocuted after the storm had blown over. Number three—novas often occur in places where there seems to be no reason. Could they be caused by races who have just discovered some new source of power? And double-novas? A second race analyzing the burst and trying their own idea out a few years later?"
"My dear young woman," said Barden, "your attitude belies your position. You seem to be telling me not to advance in science. Yet you yourself are head of the Solar Space Laboratory, an institution of considerable renown that is dedicated to the idea of advancement in science. Do you think that your outfit has a corner on brains—that no one should experiment in any line that you do not approve?"
"You are accusing me of egomania," she retorted.
"That's what it sounds like."
"All right," she snapped. "You've given your views. I'll give mine. You've shown reasons why both your informant and mine would tell their stories in support of your own view. Now admit that I can do the same thing!"
"O.K.," laughed Barden uproariously. "I admit it. So what?"
"So what!" she cried furiously. "You'll play with the future of an entire stellar race by rushing in where angels fear to tread!"
"Careful, Miss Ward. Metaphorically, you've just termed me a fool and yourself an angel."
"You are a fool!"
"O.K., lady, but you're no angel!"