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beganwithout preamble. "You were there when their ship landed, and you arealso one of the few men in the country who has seen them alone. Inaddition, your office will probably be handling the bulk of ourrequests in regard to the offer they made yesterday in the UN. You'rein a favorable spot." The President smiled and shrugged. "I wanted totalk with you sooner, but business and routine play the devil withone's desires in this office.

  "Now tell me," he continued, "your impression of these people."

  "They're an enigma," Matson said flatly. "To tell the truth, I can'tfigure them out." He ran his fingers through his hair with a worriedgesture. "I'm supposed to be a pretty fair physicist, and I've hadquite a bit of training in the social sciences, but both themechanisms and the psychology of these Aztlans are beyond mycomprehension. All I can say for sure is that they're as far beyond usas we are beyond the cavemen. In fact, we have so little in commonthat I can't think of a single reason why they would want to stayhere, and the fact that they do only adds to my confusion."

  "But you must have learned something," the President said.

  "Oh we've managed to collect data," Matson replied. "But there's a lotof difference between data and knowledge."

  "I can appreciate that, but I'd still like to know what you think.Your opinion could have some weight."

  Matson doubted it. His opinions were contrary to those of themajority. Still, the Chief asked for it--and he might possibly have anopen mind. It was a chance worth taking.

  "Well, Sir, I suppose you've heard of the so-called "wild talents"some of our own people occasionally possess?"

  The President nodded.

  "It is my belief," Matson continued, "that the Aztlans possess theseto a far greater degree than we do, and that their science is basedupon them. They have something which they call psychomathematics,which by definition is the mathematics of the mind, and this seems tobe the basis of their physical science. I saw their machines, and Imust confess that their purpose baffled me until I realized that theymust be mechanisms for amplifying their own natural equipment. We knowlittle or nothing about psi phenomena, so it is no wonder I couldn'tfigure them out. As a matter of fact we've always treated psi assomething that shouldn't be mentioned in polite scientificconversation."

  The President grinned. "I always thought you boys had your blindspots."

  "We do--but when we're confronted with a fact, we try to find outsomething about it--that is if the fact hits us hard enough, oftenenough."

  "Well, you've been hit hard and often," the President chuckled, "Whatdid you find out?"

  "Facts," Matson said grimly, "just facts. Things that could bedetermined by observation and measurement. We know that the aliens aretelepathic. We also know that they have a form of ESP--or perhaps arecognition of danger would be a better term--and we know its range issomewhat over a third of a mile. We know that they're telekinetic. Thelack of visible controls in their ship would tell us that, even if wehadn't seen them move small objects at a distance. We know that theyhave eidetic memories, and that they can reason on an extremely highlevel. Other than that we know nothing. We don't even know theirphysical structure. We've tried X-ray but they're radio-opaque. We'vetried using some human sensitives from the Rhine Institute, butthey're unable to get anywhere. They just turn empathic in the aliens'presence, and when we get them back, they do nothing but babble aboutthe beauty of the Aztlan soul."

  "Considering the difficulties, you haven't done too badly," thePresident said. "I take it then, that you're convinced that they arean advanced life form. But do you think they're sincere in theirattitude toward us?"

  "Oh, they're sincere enough," Matson said. "The only trouble is thatwe don't know just what they're sincere about. You see, sir, we are inthe position of a savage to whom a trader brings the luxuries ofcivilization. To the savage, the trader may represent purest altruism,giving away such valuable things as glass beads and machine made clothfor useless pieces of yellow rock and the skins of some native pest.The savage hasn't the slightest inkling that he's being exploited. Bythe time he realizes he's been had, and the yellow rock is gold andthe skins are mink, he has become so dependent upon the goods forwhich the trader has whetted his appetite that he inevitably becomesan economic slave.

  "Of course you can argue that the cloth and beads are far morevaluable to the savage than the gold or mink. But in the lastanalysis, value is determined by the higher culture, and by thatstandard, the savage gets taken. And ultimately civilization moves inand the superior culture of the trader's race determines how thesavage will act.

  "Still, the savage has a basis for his acts. He is giving somethingfor something--making a trade. But we're not even in that position.The aliens apparently want nothing from us. They have asked fornothing except our good will, and that isn't a tradable item."

  "But they're altruists!" the President protested.

  "Sir, do you think that they're insane?" Matson asked curiously. "Dothey appear like fanatics to you?"

  "But we can't apply our standards to them. You yourself have said thattheir civilization is more advanced than ours."

  "Whose standards can we apply?" Matson asked. "If not ours, thenwhose? The only standards that we can possibly apply are our own, andin the entire history of human experience there has never been asingle culture that has had a basis of pure altruism. Such a culturecould not possibly exist. It would be overrun and gobbled up by itspractical neighbors before it drew its first breath.

  "We must assume that the culture from which these aliens come has hada practical basis in its evolutionary history. It could not have risenfull blown and altruistic like Minerva from the brain of Jove. And ifthe culture had a practical basis in the past, it logically followsthat it has a practical basis in the present. Such a survival trait aspracticality would probably never be lost no matter how far the Aztlanrace has evolved. Therefore, we must concede that they are practicalpeople--people who do not give away something for nothing. But thequestion still remains--what do they want?

  "Whatever it is, I don't think it is anything from which we willprofit. No matter how good it looks, I am convinced that cooperationwith these aliens will not ultimately be to our advantage. Despite thereports of every investigative agency in this government, I cannotbelieve that any such thing as pure altruism exists in a sane mind.And whatever I may believe about the Aztlans, I do not think they'reinsane."

  The President sighed. "You are a suspicious man, Matson, and perhapsyou are right; but it doesn't matter what you believe--or what Ibelieve for that matter. This government has decided to accept thehelp the Aztlans are so graciously offering. And until the reverse isproven, we must accept the fact that the star men _are_ altruists, andwork with them on that basis. You will organize your office alongthose lines, and extract every gram of information that you can. Evenyou must admit that they have knowledge that will improve our Americanway of life."

  Matson shook his head doggedly. "I'm afraid, Sir, if you expect Aztlanscience to improve the American way of life, you are going to bedisappointed. It might promote an Aztlan way of life, but the reverseis hardly possible."

  "It's not my decision," the President said. "My hands are tied.Congress voted for the deal by acclamation early this morning. Icouldn't veto it even if I wanted to."

  "I cannot cooperate in what I believe is our destruction." Matson saidin a flat voice.

  "Then you have only one course," the President said. "I will be forcedto accept your resignation." He sighed wearily.

  "Personally, I think you're making a mistake. Think it over beforeyou decide. You're a good man, and Lord knows the government can usegood men. There are far too many fools in politics." He shrugged andstood up. The interview was over.

  Matson returned to his offices, filled with cold frustration. Even thePresident believed he could do nothing, and these shortsightedpoliticians who could see nothing more than the immediate gains--therewas a special hell reserved for them. There were too many fools inpolitics. However, he would do what he could. Hi
s sense of duty wasstronger than his resentment. He would stay on and try to cushion someof the damage which the Aztlans would inevitably cause, no matter howinnocent their motives. And perhaps the President was right--perhapsthe alien science would bring more good than harm.

  * * * * *

  For the next two years Matson watched the spread of Aztlan ideasthroughout the world. He saw Aztlan devices bring health, food andshelter to millions in underprivileged countries, and improve