Her face became tight and alert. "You were the oldest victim, in point of date. That was one of the determining factors—"
"Look," said Kieran. "I'm not a child, nor yet a savage. You can drop the patronizing professional jargon and answer my question."
Her voice became hard and brittle. "You're new to this environment. You wouldn't understand if I told you."
"Try me."
"All right," she answered. "We need you, as a symbol, in a political struggle we're waging against the Sakae."
"The Sakae?"
"I told you that you couldn't understand yet," she answered impatiently, turning away. "You can't expect me to fill you in on a whole world that's new to you, in five minutes."
She started toward the door. "Oh, no," said Kieran. "You're not going yet."
He slid out of the bunk. He felt weak and shaky but resentment energized his flaccid muscles. He took a step toward her.
The lights suddenly went dim, and a bull-throated roar sounded from somewhere, an appalling sound of raw power. The slight tingling that Kieran had felt in the metal fabric around him abruptly became a vibration so deep and powerful that it dizzied him and he had to grab the stanchion of the bunk to keep from falling.