"But what brought you to this conference?" asked Gene. "Knowing you as I do, you aren't just spending the time of day."
"No, I'm not. Look, Gene, what do you know about Gerd Lel Rayne?"
"Just common knowledge."
"I know. But catalogue it for me. I am trying to think of something and you may urge the thought into solidification."
"Sounds silly," said Gene. "But here it is—and quite incoherent." He laughed. "What was I saying about the excellence of memory files? Well, anyway, Gerd Lel Rayne is a member of a race that has and employs interstellar travel. Terra has nothing, produces nothing, manufactures nothing that this race requires. Neither, according to Gerd, has this race anything that would interest Terrans. Save power and the stellar drive."
"Stellar power," muttered Andrew.
"What was that? Stellar Power? Call it that if you wish. It may well be called that for lack of a better name. At any rate, it is more than obvious that Gerd Lel Rayne and his wife enjoy us. They are emissaries—ambassadors of good will, if you want to call them that—whose sole purpose is to give advice upon things that Terra does not quite understand."
"Except stellar power."
"Reason enough for that," said Gene. "Terra is a sort of vicious race. We were forced to fight for our very existence. We fought animals, nature, plants, insects, reptiles, the earth itself. We've fought and won against weather and wind and sun and rain. And when we ran out of things to fight, we fought among ourselves because there were too many differences of opinion as to how men should live. We, Andrew Tremaine, are civilized—and yet the one thing we all enjoy is a bare-handed fight to the finish between two members of our own race."