He stared at the floor without any further questions.
Against the strong logic of my reasoning I felt a strong empathy toward him. He had conducted himself well on this world that must seem very strange to him. I offered what consolation I could. "There is this possibility," I said. "A majority is not always reckoned by numbers. If you can collect superior strength to your side—either by getting others to help you, or by your own ingenuity—and whip Ctvar's clan, the law will do nothing to punish you. You may even kill them with impunity, except for the revenge of the other clansmen."
"That's a small hope."
"It is," I agreed, belatedly recalling to mind my mission. I was probably this minute under disapproving observation. "You can't hope to fight them all," I continued. "That is why I would earnestly suggest that you run."
"To where would I run?"
"I gave that a good deal of thought on my way here," I said. "There's a space ship—on a meadow outside the walls, on the far side of the city—that you might be able to reach. You could take it and flee to your own world, probably the only place where you'd be safe."
"I wouldn't know how to operate it."
"The ship is very nearly automatic. Look," I said. I took a sheet of velum, and a stylus, and drew three circles with smaller circles beneath them. "These represent the dials on the ship's control panel. The bubbles in the first dial must be set in this order—you'd better memorize them—blue-blue-yellow-blue-yellow. That's the range for your Earth. You'll have to shrink the last yellow bubble to about three-quarter size. That will give you a safety leeway. The ship will take itself in on motors from there.
"This second dial starts the ship. You merely squeeze the knob beneath it. The third dial is for stopping. As you are about to land, the tighter you grip the knob, the slower the ship will settle. You shouldn't have any trouble manipulating it."
His spirits seemed to revive somewhat. "It's worth a try," he said. "I have nothing to lose."