Zorab asked dubiously: “Do you think that is possible?”
“I don’t know.” Glorfin was obviously deeply troubled. “We can only try.”
His eyes were resting on Niall. Corbin also looked at Niall.
“Of course, it may be necessary to begin by handing the runaway slave back to the spiders. That would show our good faith.”
Doggins glared at him icily. “The Master himself refused to do that. What makes you think you can reverse his decision?” Corbin flushed and dropped his eyes.
Glorfin shook his head. “Nevertheless, we must reach some decision. We have to be realistic. At the moment, we are virtually at war with the spiders. That cannot be allowed to continue.”
Doggins looked at him, smiling.
“You mean you intend to throw yourself on their mercy?”
“Do you have any better suggestion?” Niall had to admire his patience and restraint.
Doggins looked round the table. “Yes. I suggest we begin by accepting the present situation.”
Glorfin — and most of the others — looked horrified. “You want us to stay at war?” He obviously thought Doggins was mad.
“No.” Again Doggins looked round the table, and Niall was aware that he was using the power of the thought mirror to undermine their resistance. “I want us to make peace. But not on the same terms as before. You know that the Peace Treaty gave all the advantage to the spiders. I want us to regain that advantage.” He turned towards the door and called: “Selima.”
The door opened — it had evidently been prearranged — and Selima came in, carrying the pressure lamp. Its dazzling white light filled every corner of the room, and made the tiny flames of the oil lamps seem absurd. Selima placed it in the centre of the table, and backed out of the room.
Pybus stared at the lamp in horror.
“Are you mad? You are breaking the law.”
Doggins smiled mockingly. “A law against light?”
“You know it is against the terms of the Peace Treaty.”
Doggins sighed. “Then perhaps it is time we renegotiated the Peace Treaty.”
Glorfin stared at him severely.
“You hardly seem to understand the situation. Our problem is to persuade the spiders to make peace and. . .” He struggled to find the word. Doggins grinned maliciously:
“Forgive us?”
Glorfin said defiantly: “Yes, forgive us. We have committed a horrible offence against our allies. And you want to make it worse by trying to force them to change the treaty. That is completely out of the question.” But, with Doggins’ eyes on him, his voice lacked conviction. Doggins shook his head.
“I don’t see why.”
Corbin said irritably: “Perhaps you could explain what you have in mind?”
“Yes, with pleasure.” Doggins leaned forward, his hands spread out on the table top. “You ask me to be realistic. Very well, I will be realistic. You are looking for ways to put back the clock. You want to return to the situation as it was a week ago. And I am telling you that is impossible. The spiders aren’t going to forgive and forget. They’d be ready to make peace, of course — they don’t want war any more than we do. But it wouldn’t be real peace. Now they know we’re dangerous, they won’t rest until they’ve either killed us or enslaved us. They’ll simply wait for another opportunity to attack us. And we’ll hand them the opportunity the moment we destroy the Reapers. As soon as we do that, we’re defenceless.”
Glorfin was shaking his head. “They have far more reason to attack us if we don’t destroy the Reapers.”
Doggins grinned sarcastically. “More reason, perhaps. But they won’t dare.”
Glorfin looked shocked. “You are suggesting we should remain enemies?”
Doggins stared at him. “Let me be quite clear about what I’m suggesting.” He paused, and allowed the silence to lengthen. “The spiders treat the beetles as their equals. I think it’s time we persuaded them to treat us in the same way.”
Pybus shrugged. “That is impossible. Do you expect them to free all their slaves and servants?”
Doggins regarded him seriously. “They don’t have to — their servants think they already have freedom. But you and I know what happens when they’re sent off to the great happy place, don’t we?”
Pybus shook his head. “That is only a rumour.”
“You mean you prefer to believe it’s only a rumour. You know as well as I do that it’s true.” Pybus looked unhappy; Niall could see that he was unconvinced, but was allowing himself to be swayed by Doggins’ conviction. Doggins said soothingly: “But let’s not argue about that. I’m not talking about the servants of the spiders. I’m talking about us. You’ve all been breaking the treaty since you were five years old. You can all read, and you’ve all got books hidden in your cellars. That’s against the treaty. Wouldn’t you like your grandchildren to be able to learn to read at school, instead of having to be taught in secret?”
Glorfin said firmly: “You seem to me to be exaggerating. Does it matter where we learn to read, provided we learn? Do we really want lamps like that one, when we can have as many oil lamps as we please: We already have as much freedom as we want.”
Doggins said: “As you want.”
“Yes, as I want. And as my family wants. Why can’t we leave things as they are?”
Doggins’ smile was conciliatory. “I agree with you. I’d like to leave things as they are — or rather, as they were. But we can’t. Things have changed, and we have to recognise that.” He lowered his voice, and tapped the table with his fingertip. “Look. The spiders are going to have to make concessions merely in order to make peace. We’ve killed dozens of their people, perhaps hundreds.” Glorfin winced. “According to their law, we should all be handed over to them for execution, and our wives and children as well. And even that wouldn’t be enough — the spiders say that one of their lives is worth a hundred human lives. If they’re going to make peace, they’ll have to forget all that. So why not use the opportunity to make them change the Peace Treaty?”
There was a silence; Doggins kept his eyes on them to press his advantage. Then Glorfin looked at Niall.
“I would like to hear the opinion of our guest.”
Niall was startled; he looked questioningly at Doggins, then realised with amusement that, like the others, he was beginning to treat him as a leader. He said:
“I’m not sure my opinion would be of any use to you. I have spent most of my life living in a hole in the desert, hiding from the spiders. They killed my father and took my family into captivity. All I want is to see the overthrow of the spiders. . .” He was about to add: “So that men can be masters of the earth again,” but he sensed that this would shock them.
“Yes, I can understand that.” Glorfin looked at Doggins. “And is that what you would also like to see?”
Doggins thought carefully. “Ideally, yes. I’ve never liked the spiders. But I know it’s not practical. So I’m only suggesting that we ask them to change the Peace Treaty.”
Glorfin looked round the table.
“How many of you support that view?”
Milo and Ulic raised their hands; so, to Niall’s surprise, did Simeon, who had been listening to the discussion with an inscrutable expression.
Glorfin asked: “Against?”
The others all raised their hands. Glorfin said:
“Seventeen to three.” He looked at Doggins. “I’m sorry. You put your case very well. But the majority of the stadion finds it unconvincing. We shall now have to decide what action to take.”
Some of the council members began to push back their chairs. Doggins said:
“One moment, please.” All waited. “I have a suggestion that might solve the dilemma.” Again, he allowed a long pause, and Niall realised that the arts of oratory came naturally to him. “You want to persuade the spiders to forget what has happened. I believe that is impossible. In any case, I have no wish to forget. Like Niall, I believe that men should be free. I could not live here if we surrendered to the spiders. So I believe that the best solution would be for me to leave.”
“Leave?” Glorfin looked as if he could hardly believe his ears.
“That’s right. Leave this community and go elsewhere. I know many places overseas where we could be safe from the spiders. I’d be willing to take anyone who wanted to come with me.” He smiled at Milo and Ulic.
Pybus said: “And you would also take the Reapers?”
“Of course. We’d need them to defend ourselves.” They were silent as they absorbed this startling idea. Niall could see that, as it sank in, it struck them as the ideal solution. Although they were inclined to conceal this — in case Doggins used it to his advantage — their eyes betrayed their enthusiasm. With Doggins gone, there would be no obstacle to making peace with the spiders.