Surprisingly enough the man answered.
"It's a refinement of your stellar drive, an excursion into the time
field. In fact, it was discovered almost a hundred of your years ago by
a Terran. A Dr. Walter."
Saxon looked disconcerted. Ileth swallowed, her eyes as round as
saucers. Suddenly her hand squeezed his arm.
"The door! It's opening!"
"You may go in," said their guard. "They're ready for you."
Saxon had risen uncertainly. He looked at the door which was receding
into the wall. Through the portal, he glimpsed a terrace or a balcony,
roofless. Beyond and below the terrace was a yellow sea stretching to
the horizon, its cadmium waves frothing against a beach of black sand.
"They're expecting you," the guard prompted.
Saxon shrugged. Taking Ileth's arm, he went through the opening. The
door slid shut behind them.
* * * * *
The balcony, Saxon saw, was paved checkerboard fashion with green and
yellow blocks. At the left, out of sight from the entrance, was a
twenty foot table of pale green stone. Seven incredibly old men sat
behind the table.
No one said anything.
Saxon took the initiative, advanced to within six feet of the pale
green table. His dark gray eyes narrowed. He was vaguely conscious of a
flow of thought passing among the seven old men like conversation, but
its content escaped him. His jaw jutted angrily.
"Control your anger, my son," said the old man in the center. "Your
thoughts should be respectful in the presence of your elders."
Saxon concealed his astonishment, asking, "Might I inquire what this
mummery is all about?" He became aware again of the hidden thoughts
flowing between them.
Then the old man in the center said, "I am the moderator, my son. Your
mind, we have perceived, teems with questions. We have decided that
from the psychological angle, certain of these questions can now be
answered."
"Psychological angle?" Saxon felt confused. The deviousness of the
Aliens, the maddening superiority which they assumed began to get
under his skin. With an effort, he got a grip on himself, returned
their curious stares.
The seven old men were wrinkled, emaciated. Once they had been big men
like Saxon, but the years had wasted their flesh.
"That's better," approved the Moderator, referring to Saxon's change of
tactics. "Now for your questions," and he seemed to look straight into
Saxon's mind.
"Very early in our history," began the Moderator after a moment, "we
learned that we advanced in the physical sciences by trial and error. A
disheartening process, because only so many combinations can be tried
in a single life-time...."
"What the hell has this got to do with us?" Saxon interrupted harshly.
"Patience, my son. I'm explaining the relation between our world and
the third planet of Sol which you call Earth."
A little muscle began to jump in Saxon's jaw.
"Trial and error," the old man began again. "A slow heartbreaking
process, and one which in its nature is inescapable. At least, so we
thought until quite recently." He paused, tugged at his lower lip with
thumb and forefinger.