human. No self-respecting
human would take a tenth of what they put up with."

"Their ancestors didn't," Kennon said. "They fought to the end. But your
Grandfather was a smart man even though he was a Degrader."

"He wasn't!" Douglas exploded. "No Alexander is a Degrader."

"He realized," Kennon went on, "that he'd never succeed in enslaving the
Lani unless he separated the sexes. And since women are more subjective
in their outlook--and more pliable--he picked them for his slaves. The
males he retired to stud. Probably the fact that there were more women
than men helped him make up his mind.

"In every society," Kennon went on inexorably, "there are potential
freeman and potential slaves. The latter invariably outnumber the
former. They're cowards: the timid, the unsacrificing--the ones that
want peace at any price--the ones who will trade freedom for security.
Those were the ones who hid rather than risk their lives fighting
the aggressor. Those were the ones who survived. Old Alexander had a
ready-made slave cadre when he finished off the last of the warriors.
For four centuries the survivors have been bred and selected to
perpetuate slave traits. And the system works. The men don't want
freedom--they want liberty to kill each other. The women don't want
freedom--they want males. And they'd serve them precisely as the Sarkian
women serve their menfolk. You've killed any chance they had to become
a civilization. It's going to take generations perhaps before they're
reoriented. There's plenty you Alexanders should answer for."

"If there's any fault, it's yours," Douglas snarled. "We were doing all
right until you came here. We'd still be doing all right if I had shot
you both." His shoulders sagged. "I should have killed you when I had
the chance," he said bitterly.

"But you didn't," Kennon said, "and to show my gratitude I'm letting you
get away with a whole skin. I don't expect you to be grateful, but at
least you'll not be on my conscience. I don't enjoy killing, not even
things like you."

Douglas sneered. "You're soft--a soft sentimental fool."

"Admitted," Kennon said, "but that's my nature."

"Yet you'd destroy the family, wreck Outworld Enterprises, and throw a
whole world into chaos over a few thousand animals. I don't understand
you."

"They're human," Kennon said flatly.

"Admitting they might once have been, they're not now."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Not ours," Douglas said promptly.