"You know? How, may I ask?"
"It is inconceivable that you would not know."
"Perhaps I do," came the slow answer. "Perhaps I do." The tone of the speech was low and self-reflective. "But again, perhaps I, too, am in the dangerous position of not knowing enough. You Terrans have a saying—'A little knowledge is dangerous.' It is true. Again we strike the parallel. I give you stellar power and you, knowing nothing about its intricacies, use it. Can you hope to know down which road lies total destruction?"
"You are possibly right. We could learn."
"But not from me," said Gerd with finality. "That I cannot and will not do. One can not supervise and control the inventiveness of a planet such as yours. Your rugged individualists would be investigating in their small laboratories with inadequate protection, and inevitably one or more of them would strike the danger-spot."
"I'm answered," said Andrew reluctantly. "Answered negatively. I'm forced into accepting your statements. They are quite logical—and Gaya's willingness to be glad for us when she thought that we had discovered it is evidence that you are not withholding it with malice. But logic does not fill an empty spot, Gerd."
Gerd laughed. "If you had everything you want, your race would have died out before it came out of the jungles."
Tremaine laughed. "I know," he admitted. "Also—and I'm talking against my own race—there is the interesting observation that if Heaven is the place where we have everything we want, why are people always trying to live as long as they can?"
"Perhaps they're not certain of the hereafter."
"Whether they are firmly convinced yes or as firmly convinced no, they still view death with disfavor. I'd say their dislike was about even. All right, Gerd. I'll take your statements as you made them and with reluctance I'll return to my work and ponder."