"Yes. Are you suggesting the Martians want to become martyrs?"
"No. Race-preservation or race-selfishness exhibits itself in other ways besides that of dying for principles. One manifestation is intolerance. There's a hatred for anything that is different or nonconformist. Martians and earthmen seem to have the same psychology, but we're different in looks so we repel each other, just as do certain elements. Maybe intolerance and hatred have their roots in the chemistry of an atom. Be that as it may, most creatures of the earth tend to destroy what they don't understand."
"But we don't hate Martians!" Gail insisted.
"Maybe hatred is too strong a word. However, for want of a more accurate one, let's considered the difference between the hatred we feel for, say, a Dr. Spartan, and the kind we feel for Martians. One stems from self-preservation, and one from race-preservation. This scouting trip, for example, is hate motivated. We're trying to get the best of the Martians without getting hurt ourselves. And they want to destroy us with a minimum of casualties."
"I suppose, as you've hinted, this hatred of differences is the foundation of racial intolerance?"
"Basically," I said. "Racial differences on earth—between men, I mean—are so slight they don't actually matter. Some people are a little darker or lighter, with maybe a few differences in features. But the Martians are so different that you can hardly find any resemblance except in psychology. The gulf is just too big to cross."
"Even if we're intelligent?"
"Perhaps intelligence can cross the barrier, but there are bound to be different levels of Martian intelligence. The ignorant Martians would heap indignities on us because we're a different minority."
"You have it all figured out, haven't you, Bill Drake?" she asked, leaning back in her seat. We had removed our helmets—they weren't necessary in the car—and her hair, beautiful and now grown out from the mannish bob she'd worn when she left the earth, fell nearly to her shoulders. "I suppose you are insecure because we're in an environment so utterly strange and unreal that we can hardly convince ourselves we're living in it."
"I'll admit that sometimes I think I'm in a dream world," I said, "and I'd like to be surrounded by things I'm used to. But I have confidence in myself to pull through. I like self-confidence. It's something you can have in yourself, which nobody else may have in you."