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At any rate, I have done what I have done. On Earth, there are men who envy you and hate you, and there will be others who will try to destroy you, but I have done what I could to give you a chance to gain the strength you need to resist the encroachment of Earth’s sickness.

I have a feeling that Tarnhorst saw your greatness, too, although he’d never admit it, even to himself. Certainly something changed him during the last months, even though he doesn’t realize it. He came out wanting to help–and by that, he meant help the common people against the “tyranny” of the Companies. He still wants to help the common people, but now he wants to do it through the Companies. The change is so subtle that he doesn’t think he’s changed at all, but I can see it.

I don’t deserve any thanks for what I have done. All I have done is repay you in the only way I knew how for what you have done for me. I may never see you again, captain, but I will always remember you. Please convey my warmest regards to Captain Brand and to Mr. Alhamid.

Sincerely,

Peter Danley

* * * * *

Georges Alhamid handed the letter back to St. Simon. “There’s your star pupil,” he said gently.

St. Simon nodded. “The wise fool. The guy who’s got sense enough to know that he isn’t competent to do the job.”

“Did you notice that he waltzed all around the real reason for the anchor-setting program without quite hitting it?”

St. Simon smiled humorlessly. “Sure. Notice the wording of the letter. He still thinks in terms of the Team, even when he’s trying not to. He thinks we do this just to train men to have a real good Team Spirit. He can’t see that that is only a very useful by-product.”

“How could he think otherwise?” Alhamid asked. “To him, or to Tarnhorst, the notion of deliberately tailoring a program so that it would kill off the fools and the incompetents, setting up a program that will deliberately destroy the men who are dangerous to society, would be horrifying. They would accuse us of being soulless butchers who had no respect for the dignity of the human soul.”

“We’re not butchering anybody,” St. Simon objected. “Nobody is forced to go through two years of anchor setting. Nobody is forced to die. We’re not running people into gas chambers or anything like that.”

“No; of course not. But would you expect an Earthman like Tarnhorst to see the difference? How could we explain to him that we have no objection to fools other than that we object to putting them in positions where they can harm others by their foolishness? Would you expect him to understand that we must have a method of eliminating those who are neither competent enough to be trusted with the lives of others nor wise enough to see that they are not competent? How would you tell him that the reason we send men out alone is so that if he destroys anyone by his foolishness–after we have taught him everything we know in the best way we know how–he will only destroy himself?”

“I wouldn’t even try,” St. Simon said. “There’s an old saying that neither money, education, liquor, nor women ever made a fool of a man, they just give a born fool a chance to display his foolishness. Space ought to be added to that list.”

“Did you notice something else about that letter?” Alhamid asked. “I mean, the very fact that he wrote a letter instead of telling you personally?”

“Sure. He didn’t trust me. He was afraid I, or someone else, would dispose of him if we knew he knew our secret.”

“I think that’s it,” Alhamid agreed. “He wanted to be safely away first.”