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My head was reeling with the implications. “But how can you select the genes for an anwabi? What makes someone able to see the future?”

“We do not know. It does not matter. We breed.”

I spluttered and fumed. I had anticipated a long, complicated answer, based on intense scrutiny of the Onalbi genome. Instead, what I got was such a pragmatic, rule-of-thumb reply that it threw me. “But how can you know?” I persisted.

“What makes a good anwabi? Good answers. What else could possibly matter? If it would make you feel better, we regard it as a facet of intelligence. You breed for intelligence, do you not?”

I was flummoxed. “Uh, no. We don’t breed for anything.”

“I do not understand. Do you not breed with those who are most successful? Have I misunderstood? I thought that human women desired men who were intelligent, wealthy, and strong. Do they seek men who are foolish, poor, and weak? Do they seek men who are at the bottom of your society?”

I gave this one a few moments of thought before answering. “Put that way, then you’re right. But it’s not planned in a formal sense.”

“Ah, good. Then you reap exactly that which you sow. Did my idiom translate well? Did it make sense? We breed for specialists and you breed for generalists. Our system yields those who are very, very good at one thing only. Your system yields those who are perhaps not quite as good at any one thing, but are more versatile. Both systems have merit. Onalbi and humans would be good partners. Our strengths and weaknesses would fit nicely, yes?”

Was it the pain pills that gave me this giddy sense of unreality? The conversation was slippery, out of control. I had the sense of things being said that I couldn’t quite grasp. “Uh… yes. We, not just me, but all humans, I think, could use anwabis from time to time. Possibly you have other things that we need, but a good anwabi would be priceless.”

“And we Onalbi find much to admire in your concepts. Your more general approach to questions has led to cross-fertilization between your sciences, and to more technology. I am telling you no secret that we have seen the results of your approach and it will give us thoughts for many years. Your concept of money as an abstract thing is something that has caused many conversations already. We must consider for some time before adopting the idea, but it has merit. I, myself, feel that it may be adopted. I will urge this.”

Remembering Hickok’s sarcasm, I shook my head. A prison guard urging an entire world to change… now, that was a laughable concept. “Hresah, how can you say such a thing? You’re just a guard.”

Hresah made a noise that the computer could not translate. “And what kind of job—what kind of training would produce the best prison guard?”

My brain was blank. “I don’t know. Maybe a warrior.”

“Would it not be efficient to have the judge as the guard? Save time, I think. Also be jury. Also be executioner, if need be.”

“Sounds as though…” Sudden chills racked my body. “My God, you’re an anwabi!

He bowed his head slightly, a mannerism I had showed him on another occasion. “Hresah, at your service.”

I could not think of a single intelligent thing to say. Suddenly, it all came into focus. The free-ranging conversations. The philosophical discussions. The probing questions. Hickok had been right, in a way. I had been played by a master. Plumbed to the depths of my soul. Used as a mirror of the human race. And found wanting, no doubt. How could a murderer give a good impression of what humans were like? All too accurately, I was afraid.

“But, Hresah, you’ve been here with me for months. How could you give up that much of your time? There must be other things that you should have been doing.”

“What could be more important than a first meeting between races? What more important questions to settle? What greater challenge? Let others answer the ordinary questions. I would not miss this opportunity.”

“But me? Why didn’t you talk to the contact team? They’re the ones you need to talk to.”

“There are other Onalbi talking to humans. There is an anwabi among the Onalbi talking to your contact team. He looked forward to… let’s try this word,” he spoke and the computer paused briefly before translating, “relished—did that word translate properly?—he relished the opportunity to talk to your contact team. I do not think I would be exaggerating to say that he is now disappointed. I think you and I have said enough about your contact team.”

“Is there an anwabi assigned to each group that’s talking to humans?”

“No. Only two so far. There are not enough to go around. That is why there are no Onalbi talking to your scientists. Their anwabi is in the final stages of investigating another issue. Nothing must disturb him until he is done. Once he is free, then he will make his way here and the scientists will begin to talk.”

“But can’t another be found?”

“Sadly, no. There are three anwabi alive at this time whose decisions have never been reversed. It was decided that those were the ones and the only ones who might serve as anwabi concerning the humans.”

“And you’re one of the three?”

“You have a word, ‘boast,’ which I do not understand the depth of. From our conversations, I think now that it implies a certain falseness. Like a politician. If you will consider, you will realize that it would be the worst kind of foolishness for an anwabi to underestimate or overestimate his own powers. In acting capacity as anwabi, I have never had a decision altered or modified in any way. This is nothing but a fact.”

“And yet you spent your time on me.”

“Most fascinating problem imaginable to me. Would spend rest of my life on this problem if necessary to assure that the right thing was done. Glad to say that it will not be necessary. My decision has already been made.”

Years before I had run across the phrase, “Today’s as good a day to die as any.” I decided that I’d rather not face those claws on my back. My struggle to get into a sitting position left me panting for breath. “I’m ready,” I gasped.

“Grenabeloso’s death was bad. It was brought about by ignorance and by prejudice. These are both bad things by themselves. Combined, they are destructive beyond the limits of either by itself. You have admitted the same to me many times. You do not contest the facts or this interpretation. Is this correct?”

I nodded weakly. “I did kill Grenabeloso. I’m not proud of it.”

“You did not kill Grenabeloso as an act of war. You did not kill him for his resources. You did not kill him for any reason other than the thought that you were saving a being that you regarded as similar to yourself. That the being was a besa, an animal frequently used for food, was unknown to you then, but understood by you now. Is this correct?”

I nodded again. “Right.”

“Now, I will tell you something that you did not know. Grenabeloso was an anwabi, a well-regarded one.”

My stomach sank into the ground. Now, I was in for it. “You’re right,” I whispered, “I didn’t know that.”

“I will now tell you another thing. There is a provision in Onalbi law that restitution may be made by fulfilling the obligations of the one killed. I am considering extending this provision to cover the current unusual circumstances. Do you wish to assume Grenabeloso’s position as anwabi?”

Reality lurched. Hresah might let me live? “How can I? I wasn’t bred to it.”

“The same way Onalbi do when they take a job outside their bloodlines. You have consulted with an anwabi, who is myself, and have demonstrated some ability to look ahead. It is my consideration that humans would do well to begin breeding their own anwabi. You will make mistakes, your children will make mistakes, but fewer. Your grandchildren, hopefully, will make fewer still. How can you object? You have said yourself that humans need anwabi.”