The two men did not cringe before his wrath, but stood their ground; their sad eyes growing even sadder. For a long moment there was silence; then the one who rested his hand on Gene's shoulder spoke.
"Man of the third planet, you have come among a saddened people; a people to whom a great—nay, the greatest—injustice was done in the dim, yet vivid, past. My tongue is pledged to speak not of this, but know you it is not by our will we are here. Know you, also, this slop you cry out against should call to you as like calls to like, for long did you wallow in it!"
Gene said nothing, but turned and stumbled away. He realized now that these barbarians meant to keep him here for as long as he should live. They wanted him to know some of their misery, their sorrow; to know the hopelessness they knew, and the futility of struggling with an environment that gave not before the onslaught of humanity. Why?
He was feeling like the lowest heel in the world by the time night fell. But he soon snapped out of it when he heard the tramp of many feet outside as the tribes-people passed on their way to the Cave of Talkers.
Hell! He didn't owe these savages anything, though they tried their best to give him that impression. Maybe their plaint of injustice done them was just an act to cover up some insidious activity going on in the great cave!
Shaking with excitement, he wriggled through his secret tunnel and dropped cat-like to the floor of the adjacent cave. A quick look about assured him Mree-na had already left for the big doings. He hurried to the mouth of the chamber and stealthily peered outside.
A few yards away, the two guards squatted on boulders in front of the cave he had just vacated, talking in low voices about the night's activities. They expressed disappointment at not being able to attend the nightly meetings, but Old One had cautioned them never to go so far from their post as to allow their charge a chance to escape.
Gene took a deep breath and darted out of the cavern, running silently over the rough ledge to the next chamber. He crouched in its maw and looked back at the guards. They sat unmoving, except to reach up now and then to adjust their fur robes in an effort to shut out the biting cold.
He moved away, satisfied they had not seen him.
As he neared the Cave of Talkers he became aware of a steady vibration of the rock underfoot. He had never before been this close to the worshipping place of the Wronged Ones, if worshipping place it was.