“Come on. Besides that. What’s in it for you?”

“Of course, there are contributions to Hurria.”

“Ha.”

“Payment for saving a species is only fair,” protested Devi-en, “and there are expenses to be covered. The contribution is not much and is adjusted to the nature of the world. It may be an annual supply of wood from a forested world; manganese salts from another. The world of these Mauvs is poor in physical resources, and they themselves offered to supply us with a number of individuals to use as personal assistants. They are extremely powerful even for large-primates, and we treat them painlessly with anticerebral drugs…”

“To make zombies out of them!”

Devi-en guessed at the meaning of the noun and said, indignantly, “Not at all. Merely to make them content with then-role as personal servants and forgetful of their homes. We would not want them to be unhappy. They are intelligent beings!”

“And what would you do with Earth if we had a war?”

“We have had fifteen years to decide that,” said Devi-en. “Your world is very rich in iron and has developed a fine steel technology. Steel, I think, would be your contribution.” He sighed. “But the contribution would not make up for our expense in this case, I think. We have overwaited now by ten years at least.”

The large-primate said, “How many races do you tax in this way?”

“I do not know the exact number. Certainly, more than a thousand.”

“Then you’re the little landlords of the Galaxy, are you? A thousand worlds destroy themselves in order to contribute to your welfare. You’re something else, too, you know.” The wild one’s voice was rising, growing shrill. “You’re vultures.”

“Vultures?” said Devi-en, trying to place the word.

“Carrion-eaters. Birds that wait for some poor creature to die of thirst in the desert and then come down to eat the body.”