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The lights grew brighter as they approached and the figure could be plainly seen. Painting or photograph, it lay beneath a thick, transparent coating and many details were visible despite its age.

+What is this creature?+ Linkica asked. +Very like a man, indeed. But look, it has fur upon its skull as we do not, nor does it have a nictitating membrane in its eyes. The anatomy is wrong, the joints — and look. Five fingers on each hand, ten in all — +

He stopped, struck silent by memory, and turned wide-eyed and numb toward Dehan who nodded slowly.

+This is what frightens me. The word inscribed beneath the figure is the name of a leader so great that I have found references to him in a few sources. Our sources. Ancient records. It appears then, looking at this man…+

+But we are men!+

+Are we? We call ourselves men and have mankind's cultural heritage. But is it not possible that — as we theorized earlier — that mankind could be replaced? That we have indeed replaced them?+

+Then — who are we?+ A shudder passed through him at the thought.

+We? We are mankind now. By cultural inheritance if not by blood line. But that is not what disturbs me. It is a more selfish thought+

For a long moment there was only silence in the lifeless room on a dead world.

+I think always. What thing is waiting out there, that will sometime — perhaps even now — replace us?+