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evolution stopped when we started changing the environment to suit us. Normal or telepath, we aren't evolving any more. And we aren't like those creatures back there. We had intelligence first."

"Still, after a million years or so one your own ..." Garibaldi shrugged.

"A chance we'll have to take," Lyta replied.

"Yeah." But Garibaldi couldn't get the image out of his head. A planet full of being with powers like gods and the brains of chimps. It stuck with him long after that conversation. Years later, when the question of a telepath homeworld came up again, he would remember it, vividly. It would make a difference.

"Director Vacit," Diamond said, his voice shaking slightly. "The Jumpoint is closed. They've gone."

"Very good, Mr. Diamond." Vacit sipped the odd, greenish tea the Vorlon food maker had learned to supply him with. It usually did a good job of working from his memory of how things tasted, but somehow had never managed coffee, as such. He glanced back up at the Psi Cop. "You and your men played your parts well," he told Diamond. "I know it was difficult for you."

Diamond bit his lip. "Sir, I urge you again - let us go. We're needed back home in the fight against the rebels. Psi Corps needs us."

"I need you here," Vacit countered. "We've already discussed this."

Diamond's face hid his anguish well, but to Vacit's senses it flamed like a fusion drive.

"Yes, sir," he said.

Outside, a powerful thrumming began. It was not sound, not air vibrating, but something more wonderful, deeper, a music greater and more poignant than any symphony.

"Listen, Diamond, they're singing again."

Diamond was new to this, and weak besides, so he was wincing. "Please, sir - it hurts us. They are - too loud. Can't you make them stop?"

"I could. Why
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