"It dies so swiftly," he said.
"But its time-scale is different. I shall tend this planet," she dreamed. "The life-forms will improve on themselves. Maybe someday they will come on out into space." Excitement was in her. "And they will never know that she who created them watches their brave venture."
For long and long Devil Star brooded over that planet. In the sub-swirls of his mind a remembrance shook him.
"Something troubles you, Devil Star?"
"Yes," he said faintly. "The creation of that planet. It is ... against the pattern!"
She sensed the problem, but there was only cunning mockery in her gaze. "Against it? Devil Star, there is nothing against the pattern—and no one who can fight it."
"No!" he cried in denial. "Dark Fire, you had your choice—to create or not to create. You selected—you were master of yourself in that selection."
"No. I did that which I would do. I had no choice." She rotated along an axis, probing him, mocking him. "We shall explore this thought of yours. I have choice, so you would say, of destroying this life I have created, or of allowing it to exist. But I have no choice."
"You have choice!"
"No."