“What else can we do, Merdon?” Tarat asked. “Let the Komani rule us in the Terrans’ place?”
“No! I’ll tell you what we can do. We can dare! We can take that one chance in a million and make it work for us—or die trying. As long as there is that one chance—no matter how slim it might be—we’ve got to risk everything for it. Do you understand? We’ve got to. Otherwise everything we’ve done so far is wasted. The men who’ve died for our cause, died for nothing. The people who believe that we will fight to the last drop of sweat and blood to make Shinar free, will have been hoodwinked.
“I know how hard it will be to fill the Komani’s demands. I’m not sure that we can convince the people to make this sacrifice, even for their own eventual freedom, but I’m going to try! Who will follow me?”
Tarat scratched nervously at his cheek, glanced at little Romal, and then said softly, “Well, if you think there’s really a chance that we can get rid of both the Terrans and the Komani …”
“We won’t be rid of the Komani,” Romal argued. “You heard what Okatar said. There’ll be a Komani governor over us.”
“We had a Terran governor over us once. Where is he now?”
Romal blinked. “He’s—he was—assassinated.”
“And what’s to stop us from driving off a Komani governor, after the warriors have left Shinar? What would the Komani governor have to back up his word, except our own fear of Okatar?”
“That would be enough,” Tarat said. “If we didn’t behave, Okatar could have the whole Komani nation on our backs in no time flat.”