Tom thought of another question.
"The infant," he said. "The creature with scales ..."
"It was mine," the girl said sadly. "Born to John and me some ten years ago. Unfortunately, it did not live. And while your Earth eyes may consider it a creature—" She drew herself up proudly. "It was a perfectly formed Antamundan child."
Tom gaped at her.
"No," she said, answering the question in his gaze. "You are looking at us as we are. We lose our scales after our infancy, when our mouths are formed ..."
After a while, Tom asked:
"And what about Spencer?"
"Unfortunate," the man said. "His betrayal to the press would have done us incalculable harm. It was necessary to do what we did."
"Then you did kill them?"
Livia turned her head aside.