"Nobody here," Pandit said in a whisper. "The Denebian must be sleeping in the sand-sled."
"Yes," Sria said a little breathlessly.
"I was thinking—"
"What?" Sria said. "Don't stop."
"If we wanted to examine one of the boxes, it would be suicide to open the one we take. But we could open one of them down here, see what it is, take another for ourselves—"
"You would do this?" Sria asked him. "Why?"
Pandit shrugged. "I have eyes," he said. "Our gurus did not broadcast the death-wish to outworlders until the Denebians came. Then they started. Have the Denebians sold them on the idea?"
"I don't know," Sria said.
"Well, let's assume they have. Why? Why would they do such a thing, Sria?"