"Happens to all of us," Jason told him. "I won’t begin to describe the condition my nerves were in when I hit this planet. I’m finally forced to admit that everything you said about Pyrrus is true. It is the most deadly spot in the system. And only native–born Pyrrans could possibly survive here. I can manage to fumble along a bit after my training, but I know I would never stand a chance on my own. You probably know I have an eight–year–old as a bodyguard. Gives a good idea of my real status here."
Anger suppressed, Kerk was back in control of himself now. His eyes narrowed in thought. "Surprises me to hear you say that. Never thought I would hear you admit that anyone could be better than you at anything. Isn’t that why you came here? To prove that you were as good as any native–born Pyrran?"
"Score one for your side," Jason admitted. "I didn’t think it showed that much. And I’m glad to see your mind isn’t as muscle–bound as your body. Yes, I’ll admit that was probably my main reason for coming, that and curiosity."
Kerk was following his own train of thoughts, and puzzled where they were leading him. "You came here to prove that you were as good as any native–born Pyrran. Yet now you admit that any eight–year–old can outdraw you. That just doesn’t stack up with what I know about you. If you give with one hand, you must be taking back with the other. In what way do you still feel your natural superiority?"
Jason thought a long time before answering.
"I’ll tell you," he finally said. "But don’t snap my neck for it. I’m gambling that your civilized mind can control your reflexes. Because I have to talk about things that are strictly taboo on Pyrrus."
"In your people’s eyes I’m a weakling because I come from off–world. Realize though, that this is also my strength. I can see things that are hidden from you by long association. You know, the old business of not being able to see the forest for the trees in the way." Kerk nodded agreement and Jason went on.
"To continue the analogy further, I landed from an airship, and at first all I could see was the forest. To me certain facts are obvious. I think that you people know them too, only you keep your thoughts carefully repressed. They are hidden thoughts that are completely taboo. I am going to say one of them out loud now and hope you can control yourself well enough to not kill me."
Kerk’s great hands tightened on the arms of his chair, the only sign that he had heard. Jason talked quietly, as smoothly and easily as a lancet probing into a brain.
"Human beings are losing the war on Pyrrus. There is no chance they can win. They could leave for another planet, but that wouldn’t be victory. Yet, if they stay and continue this war, they only prolong a particularly bloody form of racial suicide. With each generation the population drops. Until eventually the planet will win."
One arm of Kerk’s plastic and steel chair tore loose under the crushing grasp of his fingers. He didn’t notice it. The rest of his body was rock–still and his eyes fixed on Jason.
Looking away from the fractured chair, Jason sought for the right words.
"This is not a real war, but a disastrous treating of symptoms. Like cutting off cancerous fingers one by one. The only result can be ultimate death. None of you seem to realize that. All you see are the trees. It has never occurred to you that you could treat the causes of this war and end it forever."
Kerk dropped the arm of the chair clattering to the floor. He sat up, astonished. "What the devil do you mean? You sound like a grubber."
Jason didn’t ask what a grubber was—but he filed the name.
"Call me a Pyrran by adoption. I want this planet to survive as much as you do. I think this war can be ended by finding the causes—and changing them, whatever they are."
"You’re talking nonsense," Kerk said. "This is just an alien world that must be battled. The causes are self–obvious facts of existence."
