Have you ever seen a Speck up close, soldier? They can’t even bear to be out in the sun for more than an hour. They run about town draped in veils with flowers stuck in them. They have no weapons. They barely have tools!

And you would have me fear a Speck uprising?” He cocked his head at me.

“I’ve told you before. The best way to deal with them is to let them know what we intend to do, and then do it. Calmly. Without threats. Without violence. They will not be happy with us at first, but once they see that nothing bad comes of it, they’ll accept it. We’ve been out here for years, young man, and I think that makes us better qualified to know how to deal with them. What makes you think you understand the situation so well?

Have you had unauthorized contact with the Specks?” His gaze pierced me accusingly. I was in it now. Might as well swim as wade. “Some, sir. Yes.

I’ve spoken to them about this.”

“And they told you that if we cut the trees, they would attack us?”

“Not in so many words, sir, no. But that was my understanding of it.”

“Do they have weapons that you know of? Trained warriors? A strategy?”

Honesty made me look a fool. “Weapons, no, sir, not in the sense that we use the term. Warriors, again, no. But a strategy that demands neither, yes, sir, they do. They have the plague, sir. They’ve been using the plague against us for years. I believe they spread it with their Dust Dance. The infection is deliberate.”

“Preposterous!” He spat out the word, and his mustache quivered with indignation. “The plague is indigenous to this country, soldier. Do you know what that means? It means that everyone who comes to live here gets it sooner or later. The Specks get it, too. It’s a part of living here on the far borders. We know the plague will come with high summer. It always does and—” I interrupted my superior officer. “And do the Specks always do the Dust Dance shortly before it hits?”

He stared at me for an instant. I read my answer in his outraged glare.

They did. Dancing Specks flinging dust did not fit with his concept of an enemy attack on the fort. “Your father was right,” he said stiffly. “You’re a fool. You’ll always blame your own misfortunes on someone else, won’t you? I had thought him wrong. I had even considered promoting you. I should have known. Who can know his son better than his own father?”

He took a breath and I saw a strange transformation. His eyes went from steely to pitying. “I don’t suppose you can help it. You believe your own ridiculous theories.” As his insults left me breathless with rage, he nodded at me and spoke in carefully measured words. “Let me point this out to you, Burvelle. When the trees fall and the Specks perceive that no disaster follows, they will more readily abandon their superstitious ways and enter the modern world. It is to their ultimate benefit that we take down those trees. When the road goes through and trade follows it, why, think of what it will bring to them. If you want to help us with the Speck problem, speak to them of the benefits of the road. Encourage their natural hunger for what civilization can bring to them. But don’t humor their superstitious fears.