“Having met him several times, I can state without fear of contradiction that he was one of the most obvious males ever hatched,” Straha said.

But Diffal made the negative gesture. “He wished to be seen as obvious: that is a truth. But no male who truly was obvious could have ordered the attack on the colonization fleet and successfully concealed it for so long. No male who was obvious could have refused our demand to weaken his not-empire and sacrificed a city instead. We seek the subtleties under his scales.”

“Any male who is able to keep a secret, to keep his mouth shut, always seems a prodigy to someone from Security,” Straha said.

“Any male who is able to keep a secret should certainly seem a prodigy to you,” Diffal retorted. “You have value only when your mouth is open.”

Straha hissed in fury. “Enough, both of you!” Felless shouted. “Too much, in fact. The only thing this commission is showing is our own foibles, not those of the Tosevite we are supposed to be investigating.” She thought she was speaking an obvious truth, but the others stared at her as if she’d just hatched a miracle of wisdom. The way things were going, maybe she had.

By the time the Warren commission had been meeting for a few days, Ttomalss had learned more about the foibles of his colleagues than he’d ever wanted to know. Straha thought he knew everything about everything. Diffal was convinced nobody knew anything about anything. And Felless was convinced she could reconcile the other two males no matter how ferociously they disagreed.

What were they learning about him? If anything, he inclined toward Diffal. “To imagine that we are going to be certain of the reasons for any Big Ugly’s behavior is an exercise in presumption,” he said one morning when they were more rancorous than usual.

“Then what are we doing here?” Straha demanded.

“Looking for probabilities,” Felless answered. “Even those are better than complete ignorance and wild speculation.”

“Security’s speculation is never wild,” Diffal said. “We are, however, forced to analyze wildly conflicting data, which-”

“Gives you an excuse when you go wrong, as you do so often,” Straha broke in.

Ttomalss felt like biting both of them. Instead, he tried to change the subject: “Let us examine why Warren ended his life at the same time as he chose to allow the destruction of the American city.”

“My opinion is that this was an impulse reaction, one taken on the spur of the moment,” Diffal said. “Big Uglies seldom have the foresight for anything more complex.”

“Here, I would agree,” Felless said.

Ttomalss would have agreed, too. Before he could state his agreement out loud, Straha laughed a tremendous, jaw-gaping laugh, the laugh of a male coming from the countryside to the city for the first time. With enormous relish, he said, “I happen to know-to know, I tell you-that you are both mistaken.”

“And how do you know that?” Diffal did his best to match the ex-shiplord’s sarcasm.

But Straha had a crushing rejoinder: “Because I have been in electronic communication with Sam Yeager, who was in personal communication with Warren before he killed himself. Yeager makes it quite plain that Warren knew what he was doing, knew its cost, and was not prepared to live after inflicting that cost on his not-empire.”

“That is not fair!” Felless said. “You knew the answer to the question before it was asked.”

“I said so.” Straha’s voice was complacent. “Which would you rather do, learn the actual truth or sit around debating endlessly till you decide upon what you imagine the truth ought to be?”

By the indignant forward slant of their bodies, both Felless and Diffal would sooner have spent more time in debate. A veteran of endless committee meetings, and of committee meetings that only seemed endless, Ttomalss had some sympathy for their point of view, but only some. He said, “The truth does seem to be established in this particular interest. I suggest that we adjourn for the day so we can approach other questions with our minds refreshed.”

No one objected. The commission dissolved itself for the day. Diffal and Felless both left in a hurry. Straha stayed to gloat: “Facts? Facts are ugly things, Senior Researcher. They pierce the boldest theory through the liver and send it crashing to the ground.”

“In some ways, Superior Nuisance, you have become very much like an American Big Ugly,” Ttomalss said. “I suppose this was inevitable, but it does seem to have happened.”

Straha made the affirmative gesture. “I am not particularly surprised. I have been observing the Americans for a long time, and it is a truism that observer and observed affect each other. I suppose I have affected them, too, but rather less: they are many, and I only one.”

“You are not the only expatriate male of the Race there, though,” Ttomalss said. “We have examined the expatriates’ effect on pushing American technology forward. But we have not really considered their effect on the society of the not-empire as a whole. They must have some.”

“So they must.” Now Straha sounded thoughtful rather than vainglorious. “As I told you while you were interrogating me, you ask interesting questions. You could even answer that one, I think, were you interested in doing so. Most expatriates-unlike me-can freely come and go between the USA and territory the Race rules.”

But Ttomalss said, “That is not what I want, or not most of what I want. I would like to grasp the Americans’ view of the influence of the expatriates-it strikes me as being more important. And it could be that the expatriates are influencing the Americans in ways of which neither group is aware.”

“Those are all truths, every one of them,” Straha agreed. “They are all worth investigating, too, I am sure. I am not sure the Americans are doing anything similar themselves.”

That the Americans might be doing something similar hadn’t crossed Ttomalss’ mind. He said, “You have considerable respect for those Big Uglies-is that not another truth? And for Warren, their leader?”

“Yes to both,” Straha said. “Warren was a very great leader. Unlike the Deutsche, he found a way to hurt us at relatively low cost to his not-empire. Had his luck been a little better-had he not had males in his not-empire already influenced by the Race-he might have hurt us at no cost at all.”

“You sound as if you wish he had succeeded,” Ttomalss remarked.

To his horror, Straha thought that over before answering, “On the whole, no. His failure, after all, is what allowed me to return to the society of the Race, and I must admit I have longed to do so since shortly after my defection, and especially since the arrival of the colonization fleet.”

“That is the most self-centered attitude I have ever heard,” Ttomalss said. “What about the males and females aboard the ships that were destroyed?”

“They were in cold sleep, and so had no idea whatever that they had died,” Straha said. “All things considered, it is an end to be envied-a better one than you or I can expect.”

“Sophistry. Nothing but sophistry.” Ttomalss was furious, and didn’t try to hide it. “What about the Big Uglies in and around Indianapolis, many of whom are still in torment as a result of the strike?”

“They are only Big Uglies,” Straha said with chilling indifference. But then he checked himself. “No, Senior Researcher, you have a point there, and I have to admit it. Do you know what the Tosevites are apt to say about the males and females who died in the attack on the colonization fleet? ‘They are only Lizards.’ ” The last word was in English. Straha explained it: “That is the slang term the Tosevites use for us, just as we call them Big Uglies when they are not around to hear.”

“Sometimes looking at them is like looking into a mirror-we see ourselves, only backwards,” Ttomalss said, and Straha made the affirmative gesture. Ttomalss went on, “Other times, though, we see ourselves in a distorting mirror-the case of their sexuality comes to mind.”

Straha laughed. “That may be true of how things were back on Home. With ginger, it is not true of how things are here, as you know very well.”

“Prohibitions against the herb-” Ttomalss began.

“Are useless,” Straha interrupted. “In his infinite generosity, the exalted fleetlord hinted he might let me continue to use the herb in gratitude for the service I had rendered the Race, but he would not if I were not a properly obedient male. The threat alarmed me at first, but I needed about a day and a half to find my own supplier, and I am far from the only one in this complex who tastes. Have you never caught the scent of a female’s pheromones?”

“I have,” Ttomalss admitted. “I wish I could say I had not, but I have.”

“Whenever a female tastes where males can smell her, odds are she will mate,” Straha said. “Whenever a female mates out of season, whenever females incite males to mating, our sexuality becomes more like the Big Uglies’. Is that a truth, or am I lying and deceiving you?”

“That is a truth,” Ttomalss said. “Without a doubt, it is also the worst social problem the Race is facing on Tosev 3.”

“It is only a problem if we insist on calling it one,” Straha said. “If we do not, it becomes interesting, even enjoyable.”

“That is disgusting,” Ttomalss said with considerable dignity. Straha laughed at him. He didn’t care. He got to his feet and walked out of the conference chamber. As he opened the door, he turned an eye turret back toward the ex-shiplord and added, “When we talk again, I hope we can do so without such revolting comments.” Straha didn’t say a word, but he kept on laughing.

Ttomalss fumed as he went down the corridor and toward his own chamber-a safe haven from Straha’s depravity. He had to bank the fire of his anger to find his way through the winding maze of corridors that made up Shepheard’s Hotel. It had been a confusing place when the Big Uglies ran it, and the Race’s additions, thanks to security concerns, often made things worse rather than better.

When a certain odor reached Ttomalss’ scent receptors, he let out a soft hiss and started walking faster… and a little more nearly erect. He hardly noticed he was doing it till he’d reached his own corridor. By then, the scales of the crest atop his head were standing erect, too-the sure sign of a male ready to mate, and also ready to fight about mating if he had to. He wouldn’t have called Straha’s words disgusting then. Part of his mind realized that, but only a small part.