Hollerith was back to the cave before me. Put it down to a short-cut, or just more practice in the jungle. When I came in he looked terrible, about a hundred and twelve years old and shrunken. But my appearance seemed to rouse him a little. He gestured and the others in the cave--three or four of them--went out. One stood at the entrance. There was a silence. Hollerith grimaced at me. "You're working for the Government," he said. It wasn't a question. I shook my head. "I--" "Keep it," he said. "James Carson from Ancarta is a cover identity, that's all. I tell you, I _know_." He didn't look ready to pull a heater. I waited a second. The silence got louder. Then I said: "All right. How do you know?" The grimace again, twisted and half-humorous. "Why, because you got me recruits," he said. "Because you got me armaments. Because you helped me." "Doesn't make sense," I said. "Doesn't it?" He turned away from me for a second. When he turned back he looked more like General Rawlinson Hollerith, and less like a corpse. "You got me fanatics, men who hated the Government." "Well?" "They don't think straight," he said. "There isn't room in their minds for any more than that hatred. And they're democratic, just like the rest of us. They vote." "You set that up," I said. "I had nothing to do with it." He nodded. "I know," he said. "There are places where democracy just doesn't work. Like an armed force. As long as most of the members think alike, you're all right. But when a new factor comes into the picture--why, nobody knows what he's voting for. It becomes a matter of personal preference--which is no way to run a war." "All right," I said. "But I got you the men and their arms--" "Sure you did," he said. "You got me everything I needed--to hang myself with." He raised a hand. "I'm not saying you worked against me. You didn't have to." "I got you everything you wanted," I said. "Sure," he said. "Did you ever hear of jujitsu?" "I--" "You used my strength against me," he said. "You got me what I wanted--and did it in such a way that it would ruin me." "But the attack was a success," I said. He shook his head. "How many men are going to come back?" he said. "Fifty? Sixty? How many of them are going to get lost out there, return to the city, try to go up against New Didymus with a heater and nothing else? How many of them have had all the excitement they want? Those are going to head for home. A success--" He paused. I waited. "There was a general in Greece in the ancient days," he said. "A general named Pyrrhus. He won a battle once, and lost most of his men doing it. 'For my part,' he said, 'another victory like this and we are undone.' That's the kind of success we had." Hollerith had brains. "A Pyrrhic victory," I said. "And you know all about it," he said. "You planned it this way." I shrugged. "By doing what you wanted done," I said. He nodded, very slowly. "What now?" I said quietly.