Then the old man in the center said, "I am the moderator, my son. Your mind, we have perceived, teems with questions. We have decided that from the psychological angle, certain of these questions can now be answered."
"Psychological angle?" Saxon felt confused. The deviousness of the Aliens, the maddening superiority which they assumed began to get under his skin. With an effort, he got a grip on himself, returned their curious stares.
The seven old men were wrinkled, emaciated. Once they had been big men like Saxon, but the years had wasted their flesh.
"That's better," approved the Moderator, referring to Saxon's change of tactics. "Now for your questions," and he seemed to look straight into Saxon's mind.
"Very early in our history," began the Moderator after a moment, "we learned that we advanced in the physical sciences by trial and error. A disheartening process, because only so many combinations can be tried in a single life-time...."
"What the hell has this got to do with us?" Saxon interrupted harshly.
"Patience, my son. I'm explaining the relation between our world and the third planet of Sol which you call Earth."
A little muscle began to jump in Saxon's jaw.
"Trial and error," the old man began again. "A slow heartbreaking process, and one which in its nature is inescapable. At least, so we thought until quite recently." He paused, tugged at his lower lip with thumb and forefinger.
Saxon mastered an impulse to shout, "Get to the point!"