“All right,” said Donal. He looked out over the little sunken garden. “It goes like this—each man is a tool in his own hands. Mankind is a tool in its own hands. Our greatest satisfaction doesn’t come from the rewards of our work, but from the working itself; and our greatest responsibility is to sharpen, and improve the tool that is ourselves so as to make it capable of tackling bigger jobs.” He looked at Sayona. “What do you think of it?”

“I’d have to think about it,” answered Sayona. “My own point of view is somewhat different, of course. I see Man not so’ much as an achieving mechanism, but as a perceptive link in the order of things. I would say the individual’s role isn’t so much to do as it is to be. To realize to the fullest extent the truth already and inherently in him—if I make myself clear.”

“Nirvana as opposed to Valhalla, eh?” said Donal, smiling a little grimly. “Thanks, I prefer Valhalla.”

“Are you sure?” asked Sayona.“Are you quite sure you’ve no use for Nirvana?”

“Quite sure,” said Donal.

“You make me sad,” said Sayona, ‘somberly. “We had had hopes.”

“Hopes?”

“There is,” said Sayona, lifting one finger, “this possibility in you—this great possibility. It may be exercised in only one direction—that direction you choose. But you have freedom of choice. There’s room for you here.”

“With you?”

“The other worlds don’t know,” said Sayona, “what we’ve begun to open up here in the last hundred years. We are just beginning to work with the butterfly implicit in the matter-bound worm that is the present human species. There are great opportunities for anyone with the potentialities for this work.”

“And I,” said Donal, “have these potentialities?”

“Yes,” answered Sayona. “Partly as a result of your Maran genes, partly as a result of a lucky genetic accident that is beyond our knowledge to understand, now. Of course—you would have to be retrained. That other part of your character that rules you now would have to be readjusted to a harmonious integration with the other part we consider more valuable.”

Donal shook his head.

“There would be compensations,” said Sayona, in a sad, almost whimsical tone, “things would become possible to you—do you know that you, personally, are the sort of man who, for example, could walk on air if only you believed you could?”

Donal laughed.

“I am quite serious,” said Sayona. “Try believing it some time.”

“I can hardly try believing what I instinctively disbelieve,” said Donal. “Beside, that’s beside the point. I am a soldier.”