The Mote in God's Eye

“We told them the disease might well be a diet deficiency—”

There was shocked human-sounding laughter amoung the Mediators, none at all among the few who had not been assigned Fyunch(click)s.

“—and gave them food for the Engineer. It will not help, of course.”

“Were they fooled?”

“Difficult to tell. We are not good at lying directly. It is not our specialty,” said Potter’s Motie.

A buzz of talk rose in the toroid. The Master allowed it for a time. Presently she spoke. “What can it mean? Speak of this.”

One answered. “They cannot be so different from us. They fight wars. We have heard hints of whole planets rendered uninhabitable.”

Another interrupted. There was something gracefully human—feminine, in the way she moved. It seemed grotesque to the Master. “We think we know what causes humans to fight. Most animals on our world and theirs have a surrender reflex that prevents one member of a species from killing another. Humans use weapons instinctively. It makes the surrender reflex too slow.”

“But it was the same with us, once,” said a third. “Evolution of the Mediator mules put an end to that. Do you say that humans do not have Mediators?”

Sally Fowler’s Motie said, “They have nothing that bred for the task of communicating and negotiating between potential enemies. They are amateurs at everything, second-best at everything they do. Amateurs do their negotiating. When negotiations break down, they fight.”

“They are amateurs at playing Master, too,” one said. Nervously she stroked the center of her face. “They take turns at playing Master. In their warships they station Marines between fore and aft, in case the aft section should wish to become masters of the ship. Yet, when

Lenin speaks, Captain Blaine obeys like a Brown. It is,” she said, “difficult to be Fyunch(click) to a part-time Master.”

“Agreed,” said Whitbread’s Motie. “Mine is not a Master, but will be someday.”

Another said, “Our Engineer has found much that needs improvement in their tools. There is now no class to fit Dr. Hardy—”

“Stop this,” said the Master, and the noise stopped. “Our concern is more specific. What have you learned of their mating habits?”

“They do not speak of this to us. Learning will be difficult. There seems to be only one female aboard.”

“ONE female?”

“To the best that we can learn.”

“Are the rest neuters, or are most neuters?”

“It would seem that they are not. Yet the female is not pregnant, has not been pregnant at any time since our arrival.”