"And, of course, Epsilon Eridani honestly thinks it has a great civilizing mission, and is much better for the natives than any lesser independence could ever be. In some cases, you've got to admit they're right. Have you ever seen a real simon-pure native king in action? Or read the history of nations like Germany and Russia? And why do we have to segregate races and minorities even in our own organization to prevent clashes?" "We're getting there," said Nat Hawkins. "It's not easy, but we'll make it." _Only you're not there yet_, I thought, _and for that reason you must be stopped_. "You claim they're sated," said Barbara. "But they've kept on conquering here and there, to this very day." "Believe it or not, but with rare exceptions that's been done reluctantly. Peripheral systems have learned how to build star ships, become nuisances or outright menaces, and the Empire has had to swallow them. Modern technology is simply too deadly for anarchy. A full-scale war can sterilize whole planets. That's another function of empire, so the Eridanians claim--just to keep civilization going till something better can be worked out." "Such as what?" "Well, several worlds already have _donagangor_ status--self-government under the Emperor, representatives in the Imperial Council, and no restrictions on personal advancement of their citizens. Virtual equality with the Valgolians. And their policy is to grant such status to any colony they think is ready for it." Hawkins shook his head. "Won't do, Con. It sounds nice, but old Tom Jefferson had the right idea. 'If men must wait in slavery until they are ready for freedom, they will wait long indeed.'" "Who said we were slaves--" I began. "You talk like a damned reddie yourself," said Kane. "You seem to think pretty highly of the Empire." * * * * * I gave him a cold look. "What do you think I'm doing here?" I snapped. "Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I'm kind of tired. Maybe I'd better go now." Before long Kane made some rather moody good nights and went out. Nat Hawkins twinkled at me. "I'm a little bushed myself," he said. "Guess I'll hit the bunk too." When he was gone, I sat smoking and trying to gather up the will to leave. There was a darkness in me. What, after all, _was_ I doing here? Gods, I believed I was in the right, but why is right so pitiless? On Earth they represent the goddess of justice as blind. On Valgolia she has fangs. Barbara came over and sat on the arm of my chair. "What's the matter, Con?" she asked. "You look pretty grim these days." "My work's developing some complications," I said tonelessly. My mind added: _It sure is. No way to call headquarters, the rebellion gathering enormous momentum, and on a basis of treachery and racial hatred._