Ileth giggled again nervously.
Saxon gave a short laugh. He had a feeling that he had been stuffed too full of information. He couldn't digest it. In spite of the suspicions he had entertained concerning his birth, he was unable to really believe that he was an Alien!
He glanced suddenly at Ileth. The girl had shrunk away from him as if he were a leper. Her hazel-green eyes were horrified. All at once, she began to cry.
Saxon tried to pat her shoulder, but she wrenched away. The action drove a needle of pain into his heart. He realized in a numbed fashion how fond he had grown of the girl.
"Fond, hell!" he thought savagely, "I'm in love with her."
"My son," came the hated voice of the Moderator, "she is not for you."
"What do you mean?" Saxon shouted.
The Moderator regarded him a moment, his eyes veiled. Then, "The psychologist is ready to give you his report. As a true human, you have the right to hear it."
A shriveled, wrinkled man at the end of the table began to address Saxon in a dry voice.