 Which was probably the biggest motivator for Melia to volunteer?
] I was wandering among the tall grass of the slopes, listening to the soft whistling of the wind; allowing the grass to caress my toga and thighs. It was a day soft and clear; a day accepted by the young, cherished by we old. Saddened, but resigned and content to live in peace with his knowledge and his power. But I knew that where Xeon is, Melia must soon appear. And indeed it was but a moment before Melia slipped through the high grass to stand at his side. Melia was a She, with the swelling breasts that were, so tradition states, quite prevalent among members of the race long ago, and are seldom seen today. Indeed, Melia was on this account made the butt of many jokes and, I fear, would have had a lonely life of it had it not been for the friendship of Xeon. "Sias," they were saying, "the Maternite's gone." Everything has evaporated in Maternite. "There is nothing left," Melia insisted. A man my age does not hurry in the heat of the midday sun—maddugs nenglishmin go out in the midday sun, as the ancients say, although I often wonder why—but Xeon and Melia ran all the way down to the city. They were aware that they stood in the midst of an unprecedented happening; indeed, an emergency. Indeed, the watcher is more a tradition than a necessity. Xeon and Melia stopped as I mounted the steps, but I smiled and motioned them in. At such a time, many men feel impelled to make speeches, and one must not be disrespectful. Prayers and supplications were offered to the gods, priests were sent to sacrifice, and finally, as the light of the sun was falling between the pillars, the High Priest of the Maternite Machine was heard. By this time, unfortunately, many of the Conclave had departed for home and supper. Yet perhaps it is for the best, for those left were the most earnest and intelligent. Know, then, that once granted a few cells of Prelife, it is an easy matter for the Maternite Machine to add more and more; thus assuring us, as has always been, a continuous source of Prelife to be born by the Generating Machine as children. The machines bear the exact number of children each year to balance the number of us whom the gods claim. It is at such times that I most revere the wisdom of the ancients, who decreed seventy years the minimum age for a member of the Conclave.
 The chance to help her friend escape an unfortunate situation
 The chance to be closer with Xeon  The chance to fulfill societal expectations  The chance to help her friend Xeon discover something new  The chance to help her friend escape an unfortunate situation