Ringg was still bending over Meta's hand when Vorongil came into the
cabin. He started to speak, then noticed Ringg. "I might have known," he
growled, "if there was anything to find out, you'd find it."

"Shall I go, rieko mori?"

"No, stay. You'll find it out some way or other, you might as well get
it right the first time. But first of all--are you all right, Meta?"

Her chin went up, defiantly. "Yes. And why have you lied to us all these
years--all of you?"

Vorongil looked mildly startled. "It wasn't exactly a lie. Nine out of
ten Lhari captains believe it with all their heart--that humans die in
warp-drive. I wasn't sure myself until I heard the debates in Council
City, last year."

"But why?"

Vorongil sighed. His eyes rested disconcertingly on Bart. "I presume you
know human history," he said, "better than I do. The Lhari have never
had a war, in all written history. Quite frankly, you terrified us. It
was decided, on the highest summit levels, that we wouldn't give humans
too many chances to find out things we preferred to keep to ourselves.
The first few ships to carry Mentorians had carried them without
cold-sleep, but people forget easily. The truth is buried in the records
of those early voyages.

"As the Mentorians grew more important to us, we began to regret the
policy, but by that time the Mentorians themselves believed it so firmly
that when we tried the experiment of carrying them through the shift
into warp-drive, they died of fear--pure suggestion. I tried it with
you, Meta, because I knew Bart's presence would reassure you. The others
were given an inert sedative they believed to be the cold-sleep drug.
How are you feeling, Bart?"