Birthright

“I cannot offer an answer,” said Milnor. “But let me in turn ask you one final question, and then I shall

leave you to the sleep you must need by now. Granting all that you have said is true to one degree or another, why is it that you are spending your life studying a species that we both admit is in its twilight? What will an understanding of Man's virtues and flaws and foibles benefit you?” “You mean me personally?”

The Rinn nodded.

“I'm not sure,” said Breece. “If I am to be totally honest about it, I could very well be doing this because I'm resentful.”

“Resentful?” asked Milnor. “Of what?”

“Of all the Men who lived during the zenith of our race. There was a time when we owned it all, and we let it slip away. Or, rather,they let it slip away. Maybe I'm bitter about their losing my birthright.” “Truly?” asked Milnor.

“Perhaps,” said Breece. “Or perhaps it's the feeling I get when I look out across the Serengeti, and see it as primitive Man must have seen it eons ago. But with one difference: his future, as a race, lay before him; mine lies behind me. I think it's very sad that nothing will ever grow here again except grass: no animals, no birds, and no Men.”

“To use an expression of your species, you weep for the passing of your race,” said the Rinn. “Is that not correct?”

“No,” said Breece. “First I want to know how and why it happened, what made it inevitable. Then I'll decide whether or not to shed a few tears. And now, if you'll excuse me, Milnor, I must get some sleep.” “I understand,” said the Rinn. “However if it will not offend you, I should like to present you with a gift.” “A gift?”

“Yes,” said Milnor. “It is a human artifact.” Suddenly her face radiated interest. “I think,” continued the Rinn, “that if you study it until you know it in its entirety, a number of your questions may be answered.” “I very much doubt that any one artifact can do that,” said Breece. “This one can,” said Milnor. He removed his shoulder pouch, stuck a stubby hand into it, searched around for a moment, and withdrew the artifact, which he rubbed carefully with a soft cloth and then handed to her.

It was a mirror.

24: THE PRIESTS

...About the middle of the Seventeenth Galactic Millennium, as the race of Man was in danger and disarray everywhere, there was a rebirth of interest in religion, though this incarnation had none of the trappings of Man's ancient, Earthbound religions. It was simple, straightforward, possessed of very few