"You, my friend, have a warped personality. You have the usual viewpoint of a man of minor stature. That lanky body of yours has driven you into believing that your race is tough, vicious, and most deadly to everything. Not because you really believe it, but you yourself are not tough, deadly, or invincible but you want to belong to a group that is."
"You think them benign?"
"I wonder—but am forced to believe the overwhelming pile of evidence. In every way, Gerd and his wife have been willing to co-operate. They've willingly submitted themselves to our mental testing—and that is complete, believe me—and in every case they have proven intelligent, enthusiastic, and capable. Oh, we make mistakes, but not such complete blunders. I'll tell you one thing, Gene. I went over there today to ask one question. I wanted to know just why they refuse to give us the stellar power. Their answer was that we were not ready for it—and in the face of it, I was forced to agree."
"Whitewash."
"Think so? Then tell me how you can tell."
"Gerd Lel Rayne is a supergenius, according to the card files. Intelligence Quotient 260! That, my friend, is high enough to fool the machine!"
"Nonsense."
"A machine, Andy, is a mechanical projection of a man's mind. It is built to do that which can not be done by man himself. It is capable—sometimes—of exceeding man's desire by a small amount, but is seldom capable of coping with a situation for which it is not engineered. Since no man on Terra has an I.Q. of higher than about 160, for a guess, the machine can not be engineered to analyze mentalities of I.Q. 260 without fail."
"You do not believe the I.Q. 260 then?"