It was the fat biologist who answered. "For our type of life—yes. For this alien silicon-base species of protoplasm—no. A million, two million years hence, the silicon amoebas may even evolve an intelligent species. But, unless we establish a sanctuary here, there won't be any humans to witness it. Does that answer your question?"
"Yes," replied Margot. "Now I've a proposition to make."
"Go ahead," said Matt. There was a speculative gleam in his blue eyes.
"We need you," began Margot. "I'm not denying that. You've got the knowledge monopolized. But you need us, too. We've got the woman-power necessary to do the work that must be done...."
"You're suggesting that we combine forces?" said Matt.
Margot nodded.
"There's only one hitch," Matt pointed out. "We can't trust you!"
The red-head looked taken aback. "No," she agreed after a moment of silence. "No, I suppose not—if you've swallowed all that hogwash...."
"And," Matt relentlessly pressed his point, "we have the fort. We have tanks and guns and ammunition. We can build the sanctuary despite your Amazons. It may take us longer, but it can be done. And your girls can't save themselves from the gradual destruction of all carbon life. They haven't the special knowledge that's needed."
"Then you won't consider...."