“It’ll stay right here-and probably won’t change in the slightest. In the beginning you’ll need your perimeter and defenses to stay alive, while the people are leaving. And after that it will keep going because there are going to be any number of people here who you won’t convince. They’ll stay and fight and eventually die. Perhaps you will be able to do a better job in educating their children. What the eventual end of the city will be, I have no idea.”

They were silent as they thought about the future. On the floor, Skop groaned but did not move. “Those are two ways,” Meta said. “What is the third?”

“The third possibility is my own pet scheme,” Jason smiled. “And I hope I can find enough people to go along with me. I’m going to take my money and spend it all on outfitting the best and most modern spacer, with every weapon and piece of scientific equipment I can get my hands on. Then I’m going to ask for Pyrran volunteers to go with me.”

“What in the world for?” Mete frowned.

“Not for charity. I expect to make my investment back, and more. You see, after these past few months, I can’t possibly return to my old occupation. Not only do I have enough money now to make it a waste of time, but I think it would be an unending bore.

One thing about Pyrrus-if you live-is that it spoils you for the quieter places. So I’d like to take this ship that I mentioned and go into the business of opening up new worlds. There are thousands of planets where men would like to settle, only getting a foothold on them is too rough or rugged for the usual settlers. Now can you imagine a planet a Pyrran couldn’t lick after the training you’ve had here? And wouldn’t you enjoy doing it?

“There would be more than pleasure involved, though. In the city, your lives have been geared for continual deadly warfare.

Now you’re faced with the choice of a fairly peaceful future, or staying in the city to fight an unnecessary and foolish war. I offer the third alternative of the occupation you know best, that would let you accomplish something constructive at the same time.

“Those are the choices. Whatever you decide is up to each of you personally.”

Before anyone could answer, livid pain circled Jason’s throat. Skop had regained consciousness and surged up from the floor.

He pulled Jason from the chair with a single motion, holding him by the neck, throttling him. The bowmen tried to shoot, but held their fire because Jason was in the way.

“Kerk! Meta!” Skop shouted hoarsely. “Grab guns! Open the lock our people’ll be here, kill the damn grubbers and their lies!”