"But Joe was your friend."
"And so are you," said Jon. "But the purpose is too big for friendship. You're with me or against me. There is no middle ground."
"We'll read you out of chapel."
"You'll read me out of chapel," said Jon, mocking him.
"We'll exile you to the central ship."
"We've been exiled all our lives," said Jon. "For many generations. And we didn't even know it. We didn't know, I tell you. And because we didn't know, we fixed up a pretty story. We fixed up a pretty story and we convinced ourselves of it and we lived by it. And when I come along and show you it was no more than a pretty story, dreamed up because we had to have a story—had to have, I say—you are ready to read me out of chapel and to exile me. You'll have to do better than that, Herb. Much better than that."
He patted the gun.
"I can do better than that," he said.
"Jon, you are mad."
"And you are a fool," said Jon.