"You see?" she was saying to Kerrel. "I can quote the law as well as you. And you know I'm right."
Kerrel muttered, "It seems to me a choice of evils." And he added furiously, "You should have let the man alone!"
"He has a right to his chance," Shairn said. "He came a long way to get it."
"Do I detect a note of malice there?" inquired Edri.
"Detect what you like. Anyway, there is no other course—unless one of you feels up to killing him right here, in cold blood."
Trehearne's wine-glass came down with a clatter on the table, and he thrust his hand into his pocket so that the automatic bulged it very plainly. He said, "You wouldn't find that so easy."
Edri gave a wry sort of shudder and made gestures at him to relax. "We're not violent people," he said. "It's only that you've faced us with a damnably involved problem, and one we've never had to meet before. You see, there are certain laws."
"Laws?"
"Yes." Edri poured himself wine and drank it thirstily, as though to get the taste of something out of his mouth. "Persons above a certain culture level, possessing sufficient I.Q. or influence to be dangerous, are to be permanently silenced if they discover too much about us. Too big an investment, you understand, in Vardda lives as well as money, to be risked—and there are historical reasons for this precaution. But we're extremely careful, and the situation simply hasn't come up before, at least in my time." He sat down, sighing. "And of course, with you there's the added question. Are you or are you not a Vardda? I thought we might appoint you an honorary one, so to speak, and let you work for us here, but that was too big a transgression for Kerrel to swallow." Edri glanced at the tall man—entirely without love, Trehearne thought. "He's an agent of the Council, which means the long arm of the law. So I guess it's settled, Trehearne."
Trehearne's mouth was dry, and the words didn't want to come out of it, but there was a dangerous light in his eyes. "What is settled?"