Again there was a silence as he thought of what the Varn had said and of what it had said earlier: "We are a very old race...." There was wisdom in the Varn's analysis of the cause of the Plan's failure and with the Varn to vanquish the communication stalemate, the new approach could be tried. They could go a long way together, men and Varn, a long, long way....
Or they could create the Varn Empire ... and how could he know which it would be?
How could anyone know—except the telepathic Varn?
The muzzle of the blaster had dropped and he brought it back up. He forced the dangerous indecision aside, knowing he would have to kill the Varn at once or he might weaken again, and said harshly to it:
"The risk is too great. I want to believe you—but all your talk of trust and good intentions is only talk and my race would be the only one that had to trust."
He touched the firing stud as the last thought of the Varn came:
"Let me speak once more."
He waited, the firing stud cold and metallic under his finger.
"You are wrong. We have already set the example of faith in you by asking to go with you. I told you we did not intend to hurt your brother and I told you we saw the stars only as the little wild animals saw them. The years in the dark caves—you do not understand—"
The eyes of the Varn looked into his and beyond him; beautiful, expressionless, like polished gold.