"They should," Tom grunted. "It's the answer to their labor problems." "Sure," Ricky answered. "Only there are still guys like Graves around who don't see it. His pet topic of conversation is the Iltor Clan; he mentions it every time anyone suggests that the clans bring stability." "But the Iltor clan was wrong from the first," Tom said. "The guys who put it together were unstable themselves; they tried to make the clan a small-size empire of their own--almost a bunch of slaves. "So, eventually, they had a revolt. It had gotten to be a large outfit, since they were willing to accept anybody who would be a slave--and there are always lots of those--so the revolt was extensive and bloody. That's not typical of the clans. Not of the better ones; not of those that are really clans--and not empires. With any new idea like the clans, you are bound to get some bad results. But do you hang the good examples for the bad ones?" He sounded irritated. "Don't argue with me," Ricky said. "I'm just telling you what Graves has in mind. Of course, actually, there's more to it than that. The thing is, he took over Eltron Electric when it was practically on the rocks; he salvaged it, built it up, made it what it is today. All by himself. Using his own wits and his own guts. It all came out of him. Oh, sure, he had help--some pretty able guys were in with him. But they were the same type: Each of them knowing his own value, depending on himself and not on any others. They worked together because that was where their self-interest lay. A bunch of Free-Traders in the best tradition of the word. Free-Trading's been their life-blood; naturally none of them are apt to welcome the clan idea, and Graves least of all." "Do they really think they can hold out indefinitely?" Tom asked. "They must know they are being left behind, that they're getting out of step." "I doubt it," Ricky said. "Graves says that the world is off on a cock-eyed binge with this clan idea, and I'm quoting his words. He figures it's going to come to its senses, eventually. At least that's what he says; what he really believes deep down in his heart, I don't know. Maybe, underneath, he's convinced; maybe if you could get him to admit the truth, he knows he has to accept us if he's going to survive. Maybe that's why he's letting Marcia twist his arm; it could be." Tom nodded. "In any case, we're in the middle," he said. He looked sardonic. "Caught between the hammer of present reality and the stubborn anvil of Graves." He finished off his drink. "What do you propose to do?" "I propose to let Graves pay our bills, in spite of his opinions," Ricky said. "And if that includes Marcia, why I don't really mind. One has to put up with some inconveniences; and when the inconvenience is a dish like her, I don't really mind at all." He leered in an exaggerated way.