"Why, yes," Walton said, taken off guard. He wondered what plan the alien had. "It's in our morgue right now. But—"
The alien turned away from the screen, and Walton heard him conferring with someone beyond the field of vision. Then the Dirnan returned.
"There are techniques for recovering information from newly dead persons," Thogran Klayrn said. "You have none of these on Earth?"
"Recovering information?" Walton stammered. "No, we don't."
"These techniques exist. Have you such a device as an electroencephalograph on Earth?"
"Of course."
"Then it is still possible to extract the data from this dead man's brain." The alien uttered a wistful wheeze. "See that the body comes to no harm. I will be at your city shortly."
For a moment Walton did not understand.
Then he thought, Of course. It had to happen this way.
He realized the rent in the fabric had been bound up, his mistakes undone, his conscience granted a reprieve. He felt absurdly grateful. That all his striving should have been ruined at the last moment would have been intolerable. Now, all was made whole.