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They'll think you're a fool for needing to ask, but they'll tell you all about Pyrrhic victory. Shall I tell you what may have happened?"
He didn't wait for an answer. "This is pure conjecture, but it makes sense to me, and I've had two weeks to think about it. We must have been losing the war. If we were, some thraargh- excuse me. Some members of our race must have decided to take all the slaves with them. Like Grandfather's funeral ceremony, but bigger. They made an amplifier helmet strong enough to blanket the entire galaxy. Then they ordered everything within reach to commit suicide."
"But that's a horrible attitude!" Kzanol bristled with moral outrage. "Why would a thrint do a thing like that?"
"Ask a human. He knows what sentients are capable of when someone threatens them with death. First they declaim that the whole thing is horribly immoral, and that it's unthinkable that such a threat would ever be carried out. Then they reveal that they have similar plans, better in every respect, and have had them for years, decades, centuries. You admit the Big Amplifier would have been technically feasible?"
"Of course."
"Do you doubt that a slave race in revolt would settle for nothing less than our total extinction?"
Tendrils writhed in battle at the corners of Kzanol's mouth. When he finally spoke, he said, "I don't doubt it."
"Then-"
"Certainly we'd take them with us into extinction! The sneaky, dishonorable lower-than-whitefoods, using. our concessions of freedom to destroy us! I only desire that we got them all."
Kzanol/Greenberg grinned. "We must have. How else can we explain that none of our slaves are in evidence except whitefoods? Remember whitefoods are immune to the Power.
"Now, that other information. Have you looked for your second suit?"
Kzanol returned to the present. "Yes, on the moons. And you searched Neptune. I'd have known if Masney found it. Still, there's one more place I'd like to search."
"Go ahead. Let me know when you're finished." Gyros hummed faintly as the Golden Circle swung around. Kzanol looked straight ahead, his Attention in the control room.
Kzanol/Greenberg lit a cigarette and got ready for a wait.
If Kzanol had learned patience, so had his poor man's imitation. Otherwise he would have done something foolish when the thrint blithely took over Masney, his own personal slave. He could have killed the thrint merely for using his own body- Kzanol/Greenberg's own stolen body, by every test of memory. And the effort of dealing with Kzanol, face to his own personal face!
But he had no choice.
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