The tiny door opened again, and Billy Thompson entered, leaving his glass case attached to the door frame on the other side.
His nose wrinkled at the smell of the bactericide, but he grinned at the precautions. He, the vanquished, still held sway over their fears.
Thompson advanced and saluted. Then he waited.
"Arrogant, to boot," snapped Vorgan to Lindoo. His voice came to Billy out of the speaker in the ceiling, and Thompson stifled the natural impulse to face the position from which came the voice. He faced Vorgan.
"Not arrogant," he said quietly. "I merely request the respect shown to a vanquished, but adequate adversary."
"Our adversaries are always vanquished," snapped Lindoo. "And they become our slaves."
"A slave you may consider me," nodded Billy. "That I can not change. But the self-respect I have for having been vanquished only after a bitter fight requires me to consider myself more than a voiceless slave. You can not change that."