"No." She shook her head, violently. "Nobody can make a slave. All we've done is seize an opportunity. Think of our own history, Johnny: first the clan, or the band--some sort of extended family group. Then, when real leadership is needed, the slave-and-master relationship." "Now, wait a minute," Dodd said. Norma had been brain-washed into some silly set of slogans: it was his job to break them down. "The clan can elect leaders--" "Sure it can," she said. "But democracy is a civilized commodity, Johnny--in a primitive society it's a luxury the society can't afford. What guarantees have you got that the clan will elect the best possible leader? Or that, having elected him, they'll follow him along the best paths?" "Self-interest--" But again she cut him off. "Self-interest is stupid," she said casually. "A child needs to learn. Schooling is in the best interest of that child. Agreed?" "Yes, but--" "Did you ever hear of a child who liked school, Johnny?" she asked. "Did you ever hear of a child who went to school, regularly, eagerly, without some sort of force being applied, physical, mental or moral? No, Johnny, self-interest is short-sighted. Force is all that works." "But--" He was sure she was wrong, but he couldn't see where. "Who are we to play God for them?" he said at last. "They need somebody," Norma said. "And we need them. Even." She seemed harder now, somehow, more decided. Dodd saw that the one attack had changed a lot--in Norma, in everyone. Albin, for instance, wasn't involved with fun any more: he had turned into a fanatical drill-sergeant, with a squad of Alberts under him, and it was even rumored that he slept in their quarters. And Norma ... what had happened to her? After the fighting was over, and they could talk again, could relax and reach out for each other once again.... She had become so hard.... One new fear ran through the defenders. The Alberts who had escaped might return, some said, vowing vengeance against the masters.... 21 Cadnan had learned much in a very short time. Everyone was hurried now, as the time of mating approached more and more quickly and as the days sped by: knowledge was thrown at Cadnan and at Dara in vast, indigestible lumps, and they were left to make what they could of it, while the others went about their normal assigned work. He learned about the invasion, for instance--or as much about it as Marvor, the elders and a few other late arrivals could piece together. Their explanations made surprisingly good sense, in the main, though none of them, not even Marvor, could quite comprehend the notion of masters having masters above them: it appeared contrary to reason.