Childhood's End
know nothing," said Stormgren, still angling hopefully. "Though since you must have been observing us for thousands of years, I suppose that's rather unlikely."
    "I suppose it is," replied Karellen, in his most unhelpful manner. And at that moment Stormgren made up his mind.
    "Karellen," he said abruptly, "I'll draft out the statement and send it up to you for approval. But I reserve the right to continue pestering you, and if I see any opportunity, I'll do my best to learn your secret."
    46
    "I'm perfectly well aware of that," replied the Supervisor, with a slight chuckle.
    "And you don't mind?"
    "Not in the least-though I draw the line at nuclear weapons, poison gas, or anything else that might strain our friendship."
    Stormgren wondered what, if anything, Karellen had guessed. Behind the Supervisor's banter he had recognized the note of understanding, perhaps-who could tell?-even of encouragement.
    "I'm glad to know it," Stormgrcn replied in as level a voice as he could manage. He rose to his feet, bringing down the cover of his case as he did so. His thumb slid along the catch.
    "I'll draft that statement at once," he repeated, "and send It up on the teletype later today."
    While he was speaking, he pressed the button-and knew that all his fears had been groundless. Karellen's senses were no subtler than Man's. The Supervisor could have detected nothing, for there was no change in his voice as he said goodbye and spoke the fRnlili2r code-words that opened the door of the chamber.
    Yet Stormgren still felt like a shoplifter leaving a department store under the eyes of the house-detective, and breathed a sigh of relief when the smooth wall had sealed itself behind
     
     
     
    "I admit," said van Ryberg, "that some of my theories haven't been very successful. But tell me what you think of this one."
    "Must I?" sighed Stormgren.
    Pieter didn't seem to notice.
    "It isn't really my idea," he said modestly. "I got it from a story of Chesterton's. Suppose the Overlords are hiding the fact that they've got nothing to hide?"
    "That sounds just a little complicated to me," said Stormgren, beginning to take slight interest.
    'What I mean is this," van Ryberg continued eagerly. "I think that physically they're human beings like us. They realize that we'll tolerate being ruled by creatures we imagine to be- well, alien and super-intelligent. But the human race being what it is, it just won't be bossed around by creatures of the same species."
    47
    "Very ingenious, like all your theories," said Stormgren.
    "I wish you'd give them opus numbers so that I could keep up with them. The objections to this one----" But at that moment Alexander Wainwright was ushered in.
    Storzngren wondered what he was thinking. He wondered)
    too, if Wainwright had made any contact with the men who had kidnapped him. He doubted it, for he believed Wainwright's disapproval of violence to be perfectly genuine. The extremists in his movement had. discredited themselves thoroughly, and it would be a long time before the world heard of them again.
    The head of the Freedom League listened carefully while the draft was read to him. Stormgren hoped he appreciated this gesture, which had been Karellen's idea. Not for another twelve hours would the rest of the world know of the promise that had been made to its grandchildren.
    "Fifty years," said Wainwright thoughtfully. "That is a long time to wait."
    "For mankind, perhaps, but not for Karellen," Stormgren answered. Only now was he beginning to realize the nearness of the Overlords' solution. It had given them the breathing space they believed they needed, and it had cut the ground from beneath the Freedom League's feet. He did not imagine that the League would capitulate, but its position would be seriously weakened. Certainly Wainwright realized this as well.
    "In fifty years," he said bitterly, "the damage will be done. Those who remembered our independence will be dead:
    humanity will have forgotten its

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