ur blood-letting for you?" Duke
sneered.

"That was their own idea," Flannery denied. He lighted a cigarette and
sat staring at the end of it, blowing out a slow stream of smoke. "All
right, we made a mess of Cathay. We'll know better next time. Care to
walk back with me?"

"Why? So one of your trained psychopropagandists can indoctrinate me?
Or to get drunk and cry over your confession?"

"To keep me from sinking to your level and pushing your nose down your
throat!" Flannery told him, but there was no real anger in his voice.
He stood up, shrugging. "Nobody's forcing you, O'Neill. Say the word
and I'll drive you home. But if you want that explanation, my working
office seems like a good place to talk."

For a moment, Duke wavered. But he'd reached the end of his own
research, and he'd come here to find the answers. Leaving now would
only make him more of a fool. "O.K.," he decided. "I'll stay for the
big unveiling."

Flannery grimaced. "There's no great secret, though we don't broadcast
the facts for people and races not ready for them. We figure those who
finish growing up here will soak up most of it automatically. Did you
get around to the film file on interstellar wars at the library?"

Duke nodded, wondering how much they knew about his activities. He'd
spent a lot of time going over the film for clues. It was so old that
the color had faded in places. The rest would have been easier to take
without color. Most wasn't good photography, but all was vivid. It was
the record of all the wars since Earth's invention of the
high-drive--nearly two hundred of them. Gimsul, Hathor, Ptek, Sugfarth,
Clovis, and even Meloa--the part he hadn't seen, beyond Kordule where
the real damage lay; Ronda had been wrong, and cannibalism had been
discovered, along with much that was worse. Two hundred wars in which
victor and vanquished alike had been ruined--in which the supreme
effort needed to win had left most of the victors worse than the
defeated systems.

"War!" The word was bitter on Flannery's lips. "Someone starts building
war power--power to insure peace, as they always say. Then other
systems must have power to protect themselves. Strength begets
force--and fear and hatred. Sooner or later, the strain is too great,
and you have a war so horrible that its very horror makes surrender
impossible. You saw it on Meloa. I've seen it fifty times!"

* * * * *

They reached the For