"Many of them are unfavorable," Korvin said. "But we are not forced to accept them."
Korvin shrugged. "Not knowingly," he said. The Ruler flashed a look at the technicians handling the lie-detector. Korvin turned to see their expression. They needed no words; the lie-detector was telling them, perfectly obviously, that he was speaking the truth. But the truth wasn't making any sense. "I told you you wouldn't understand it," he said.
"It is a defect in your explanation," the Ruler almost snarled.
"My explanation is as exact as it can be," he said.
The Ruler breathed gustily. "Let us try something else," he said. "Everyone is the governor. Do you share a single mind? A racial mind has been theorized, though we have met with no examples--"
"Neither have we," Korvin said. "We are all individuals, like yourselves."
"But with no single ruler to form policy, to make decisions--"
"We have no need of one," Korvin said calmly.
"Ah," the Ruler said suddenly, as if he saw daylight ahead. "And why not?"
"We call our form of government _democracy_," Korvin said. "It means the rule of the people. There is no need for another ruler."
One of the experts piped up suddenly. "The beings themselves rule each other?" he said. "This is clearly impossible; for, no one being can have the force to compel acceptance of his commands. Without his force, there can be no effective rule."
"That is our form of government," Korvin said.
One of the technicians chimed in: "The machine tells us--"
"Then the machine is faulty," the expert said. "It will be corrected."
Korvin wondered, as the technicians argued, how long they'd take studying the machine, before they realized it didn't have any defects to correct. He hoped it wasn't going to be too long; he could foresee another stretch of boredom coming. And, besides, he was getting homesick.
It took three days--but boredom never really had a chance to set in. Korvin found himself the object of more attention than he had hoped for; one by one, the experts came to his cell, each with a different method of resolving the obvious contradictions in his statements.
Some of them went away fuming. Others simply went away, puzzled.
It wasn't very difficult; he hadn't thought it would be. Even the most logical of thinking beings has a subconscious as well as a conscious mind, and one of the ways of dealing with an insoluble problem is to make the problem disappear. There were only two ways of doing that, and killing the problem's main focus was a little more complicated. That couldn't be done by the subconscious mind; the conscious had to intervene somewhere. And it couldn't.