Wilding glanced round the circle of faces. All were pale, set into lines of strain and bitterness.
"No," said Wilding. "The decision is mine, and I've made it. We won't have unnecessary killing. You can't found a new world on other people's corpses. If it were to cost even one innocent life, I wouldn't want that responsibility. We'll have to surrender and start planning all over again...."
"Shall I set the surrender signal?" Grouth asked.
Wilding nodded. For some reason, his eyes sought Elshar's face. She was smiling. It startled Wilding that her approval meant so much to him. He was not in love with her, and never had been. The sight of Amyth close beside Elshar was enough to prove that to him. Any world, new or old, without Amyth would have been dust and ashes to him. His feeling about Elshar was completely different, almost as if she were a child for whom and to whom he was responsible. But her face now was that of a judge, benign and sad and incredibly world-wise. And her smile was almost a benediction.
The girl moved forward suddenly. Her voice was clear and oddly confident.
"Don't signal anything," she ordered. "There is another way out. Wilding has won the right to it for all of you."
Elshar turned fondly to Wilding and put her hand on his arm.
"You don't understand, of course. Because of me you lost your freedom. You thought all along that you were my guardian angel. In your own way, you tried to be kind and good and understanding. The truth is that I am your guardian angel, one of them."
Puzzlement in his face seemed to amuse her. She went on very quickly. "I know you have wondered about me, about my race. You always sensed some strangeness in me, but not even you dreamed how much there was of strangeness. I come of an alien race, not even of your Solar System. There are many such races inhabiting planets of various stars in your galaxy. Most of them have developed far beyond your people in science, in culture, in social organization.