Grimly he said, "Now if only we could convince the ardth and the Trylla of that!"
Katha caught his arm, saying fiercely, "Tyr—Ted—oh, I'll call you Tyr! You can't give up. You must fight. The ardth are fighters, Tyr. Your father was a fighter. He came here with his wife because he had space leprosy! That's right. And his wife came with him. You were born on Lyallar—far, so far from your home planet. He died a long time ago, did William Rohrig, but his fighter's heart didn't die."
A red fingernail stabbed into the flesh of his chest. "That heart is in you, Tyr. It wants to fight. Maybe it doesn't know how, but you are sad only for that reason. You aren't fighting!"
Tyr whispered hoarsely, "Tell me how, Katha. How shall I fight?"
"How do you want to fight? What does your heart and your brain tell you?"
He stood and let the sunlight hit his forehead. It grew hotter and hotter as he stood there, and inside his skull he felt something stirring, and knew it for his opening brain. Fight them where they are most vulnerable, Tyr. Hit them at their core! The inner voice that was his thought whispered again, Destroy the Glow!
"I must destroy the Glow," he said to her.
Katha shuddered, whispered in horror, "You cannot! You would die from it long before you ever came to it. The Glow is terrible, awesome, Tyr!"
The sunlight made a pattern on his chest as he turned. "Nevertheless, that is what I must do."
The woman bowed her head and took his hand.