The compartment was getting crowded as other Pyrrans pushed in. Kerk, almost to the door, turned back to face Jason.
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with armistice,” he said. “It’s a coward’s way out, that’s what it is. It’s all right for you to suggest it, you’re from off-world and don’t know any better. But do you honestly think I could entertain such a defeatist notion for one instant? When I speak, I speak not only for myself, but for all of us here. We don’t mind fighting, and we know how to do it. We know that if this war was over, we could build a better world here. At the same time, if we have the choice of continued war or a cowardly peace-we vote for war. This war will only be over when the enemy is utterly destroyed!”
The listening Pyrrans murmured in agreement, and Jason had to
shout to be heard above them. “That’s really wonderful. I bet you even think it’s original. But don’t you hear all that cheering offstage? Those are the spirits of every saber-rattling sonofabitch that ever plugged for noble war. They even recognize the old slogan. We’re on the side of light, and the enemy is a creature of darkness. And it doesn’t matter a damn if the other side is saying the same thing. You’ve still got the same old words that have been killing people since the birth of the human race. A ‘cowardly peace,’ that’s a good one. Peace means not being at war, not fighting. How can you have a cowardly not-fighting. What are you trying to hide with this semantic confusion? Your real reasons? I can’t blame you for being ashamed of them-I would be. Why don’t you just come out and say you are keeping the war going because you enjoy killing? Seeing things die makes you and your murderers happy, and you want to make them happier still!”
There was a sensed but unvoiced pressure in the silence. They waited for Kerk to speak. He was white-faced with anger, held tightly under control.
“You’re right, Jason. We like to kill. And we’re doing to kill. Everything on this planet that ever fought us is going to die. We’re going to enjoy doing it very much.”
He turned and left while the weight of his words still hung in the air. The rest followed, talking excitedly. Jason slumped back on the couch, exhausted and defeated.
When he looked up they were gone-all except Mets. She had the same look of bloodthirsty elation as the others, but it drained away when she glanced at him.
“What about it, Mets?” he snapped. “No doubts? Do you think that destruction is the only way to end this war?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I can’t be sure. For the first time in my life, I find myself with more than one answer to the same question.”
“Congratulations,” he said bitterly. “It’s a sign of growing up.”
22
Jason stood to one side and watched the deadly cargo being loaded into the hold of the ship. The Pyrrans were in good humor as they stowed away riot guns, grenades and gas bombs. When the back-pack atom bomb was put aboard, one of them broke into a marching song, and the others picked it up. Maybe they were happy, but the approaching carnage only filled Jason with an intense gloom. He felt that somehow he was a traitor to life. Perhaps the life form he had found needed destroying-and perhaps it didn’t. Without making the slightest attempt at conciliation, destruction would be plain murder.
Kerk came out of the operations building and the starter pumps could be heard whining inside the ship. They would leave within minutes. Jason forced himself into a foot-dragging rush and met Kerk halfway to the ship.
“I’m coming with you, Kerk. You owe me at least that much for finding them.”
Kerk hesitated, not liking the idea. “This is an operational mission,” he said. “No room for observers, and the extra weight… And it’s too late to s~ip us, Jason, you know that.”
“You Pyrrans are the worst liars in the universe,” Jason said. “We both know that ship can lift ten times the amount it’s carrying today. Now, do you let me come, or forbid me without reason at all?”