«Eventually I had my thirty. I also knew there were about fifty more among the Authority who would be on my side once I had taken the first vital step. Sela was among them.»

«I see,» said Blade. He gave Sela a hard look. «Did you know anything of what Geetro had in mind when you were showing me around?» He did not care for the possibility that she'd been systematically deceiving him.

«I did not know,» she said calmly. «I suspected that he had a plan. I suspected that, if he did have a plan, it would be something like this. He was not the only one with the wits to understand what Mak'loh needed. I will admit he was the only one with the courage necessary-until you came. Yet I did not show you around the city with the idea of helping you to do what you have done tonight. I believed what you said, about bringing in your comrades to help us. I thought that would be a much better way, and we would not have to destroy anything.» Her shoulders sagged. «Blade, did you lie to me-about being one of many explorers from England?»

«I did not lie about that,» said Blade. He realized he was going to have to make a few changes in his story now that Sela was politely calling his bluff. «I was. Three parties set out from England, with six men in each one. We traveled separately, and my party was the first to reach Mak'loh. I do not know where the other two parties are. They may be dead.»

«How is this?» said Geetro, surprised. «It has been a long time since anyone in the Warlands could harm people from the Cities of Peace.»

«Times have changed,» said Blade. «The Warlands beyond Mak'loh's Wall are ruled by a man called the Shoba. I do not know what kind of man he is, but I know what kind of army he has.» He repeated to Geetro what he'd told Sela about the Shoba's army.

«They were good enough to kill two of my comrades and wound two more so that they could not travel. I left one man with the wounded and came on myself, into the Warlands Villages where I met the girl Twana. Then we came on, over the Wall and into Mak'loh. I have no way of calling my comrades. I do not even know that the Shoba's men have not found them and killed them. Here in Mak'loh I was alone, and I knew I would be alone for a long time. I knew that I could do what was necessary alone, and that the sooner I did it the better. The rest you have seen tonight.»

«We have,» said Geetro, «and I suppose we must be grateful to you for it.»

«You certainly ought to be,» said Sela. «The job is done, without you having to gather your own courage to do it or dirty your own hands by doing it yourself.»

«You've spoken truly,» said Geetro. «The job is done, and by a man who-«He broke off suddenly, but not before his voice had taken on a tone that Blade recognized and distrusted. Quietly Blade dropped one hand to the butt of his rifle and shifted in his chair so that he could leap to his feet in a hurry.

Sela also recognized Geetro's tone and finished the sentence. «And by a man who is not of us, and can therefore be blamed-and punished-for it without danger. That is what you think. That is what I see on your face and hear in your voice.

«Think again, Geetro. You will not prove how clean your own hands are by washing them in the blood of this man. Not when he had the courage to do alone what you did not have the courage to do with thirty people behind you.»

Geetro sucked in his breath. «Is there-love-between you and Blade, Sela?» Blade hadn't expected to find plain, simple jealousy in Mak'loh, but it was all over Geetro's face. He sincerely hoped Sela would answer, «No,» and be telling the truth when she did.

«No,» said Sela, with a thin smile. «You do not need to worry about that, Geetro. But you do need to worry about what may happen if you try to kill Blade. He has proved that he can deal very well with any attack coming at him from the front. As for taking him from the rear-any blow at his back must pass through me to reach him.» She laid her rifle across her knees.

Blade had the strong feeling that the meeting was about to degenerate, if not into violence, at least into pointless squabbling. He raised his voice. «This is not telling me much of what I need to know, Geetro. Or have you decided to kill me so that I will not need to know anything more? If so, Sela is right. I will not be easy to kill.»

Geetro clutched his hair with both hands, as though he wanted to pull it out by the roots in large handsful. «No, no, no! Blade, Sela, enough! We are not going to kill you.»

«Very good,» said Blade. «So let us talk of other things. Who is Paron?»

Paron was, or at least had been, the chief of the Authority people responsible for the production, programming, and training of the robots and androids. He was also one of the very few really original and creative thinkers left in Mak'loh, although his originality and creativity had led him into strange and dangerous paths.

Paron's new programs for the worker androids had greatly increased their skills. He had even done some experiments with the training of the soldier androids, to make them more able to act without orders. Those new training methods could also make the soldiers much more dangerous to the human inhabitants of Mak'loh, or so the Authority had come to believe. They outlawed Paron's experiments and confiscated all his experimental androids. They hadn't dared to do more than that. Paron was too indispensable to the working of the robot and android factories. That was unfortunate. They had merely shamed and angered Paron, enough to give him a strong desire for revenge without depriving him of the ability to take that revenge when he chose.

Still, Paron was a man of Mak'loh. Like Geetro, he came very slowly to the idea of doing anything that would upset or force a change in the city's way of life. He acquired a faction of supporters, but neither he nor they had any clear idea of what they ought to do. He was vaguely aware that Geetro was forming a faction of his own, for some purpose or purposes, but couldn't begin to guess what those purposes might be.

At this point Blade began to wonder if either side in this fight were competent to run a dockside tavern, let alone a city or a revolution.

Enter Richard Blade. Paron realized at once that Blade was something new and unpredictable. At the very least he might be dangerous as a rallying point for Geetro's faction.

In any case he had to be guarded against. So Paron started putting some of his people secretly on watch around some of the key buildings in Mak'loh. (It was those people Blade had fought in the field-generator building.)

Geetro's people noticed what Paron was doing and became suspicious. Geetro himself began to wonder if Paron was not hatching some sort of counterplot. So he started having some of his own people on alert each night, ready to move into action on short notice. In another year he might even have worked up the courage to forestall Paron-and take over all the important buildings himself.

Blade prayed mentally for patience. These people had an awesomely advanced science and technology. When it came to politics, they were like frightened children cowering in the corner of a darkened room, afraid the bogeyman would get them.

Before anybody could get up the courage to do anything more, Richard Blade walked into the control room for the field generators and blew everything to bits. He smashed not only irreplaceable hardware but many years of planning by both factions. In plain language, he'd started a full-scale civil war in Mak'loh.

It was going to be a remarkably peculiar civil war, thought Blade. There might be no more than two or three hundred people fighting out of more than a hundred thousand in the city. Some of the people from the Houses of Peace might join in, but not many and not soon. Even when they did, how many of them would be of any use?