ve to
believe--a lie they simply couldn't _help_ but believe--" He turned on
Meyerhoff, his hands trembling. "Do they _think_ the way we do? I mean,
with logic, cause and effect, examining evidence and drawing
conclusions? Given certain evidence, would they have to draw the same
conclusions that we have to draw?"

Meyerhoff blinked. "Well--yes. Oh, yes, they're perfectly logical."

Zeckler's eyes flashed, and a huge grin broke out on his sallow face.
His thin body fairly shook. He started hopping up and down on one foot,
staring idiotically into space. "If I could only think--" he muttered.
"Somebody--somewhere--something I read."

"Whatever are you talking about?"

"It was a Greek, I think--"

Meyerhoff stared at him. "Oh, come now. Have you gone off your rocker
completely? You've got a problem on your hands, man."

"No, no, I've got a problem in the bag!" Zeckler's cheeks flushed.
"Let's go back in there--I think I've got an answer!"

The courtroom quieted the moment they opened the door, and the judge
banged the gavel for silence. As soon as Zeckler had taken his seat on
the witness stand, the judge turned to the head juryman. "Now, then," he
said with happy finality. "The jury--"

"Hold on! Just one minute more."

The judge stared down at Zeckler as if he were a bug on a rock. "Oh,
yes. You had something else to say. Well, go ahead and say it."

Zeckler looked sharply around the hushed room. "You want to convict me,"
he said softly, "in the worst sort of way. Isn't that right?"

Eyes swung toward him. The judge broke into an evil grin. "That's
right."

"But you can't really convict me until you've considered carefully any
statement I make in my own defense. Isn't that right?"

The judge looked uncomfortable. "If you've got something to say, go
ahead and say it."

"I've got just one statement to make. Short and sweet. But you'd better
listen to it, and think it out carefully before you decide that you
really want to convict me." He paused, and glanced slyly at the judge.
"You don't think much of those who tell the truth, it seems. Well, put
_this_ statement in your record, then." His voice was loud and clear in
the still room. "_All Earthmen are absolutely incapable of telling the
truth._"

Puzzled frowns appeared on the jury's faces. One or two exchanged
startled glances, and the room was still as death. The judge stared at
him, and then at Meyerhoff, then back. "But you"--he stammered.
"You're"-