As he brooded upon the sorry choice of arousing a search by hiding where he was or going back to bluff things out, the tree spoke.
"Maybe you're all set, Sonny. The Life has been thinkin' of learning about other worlds. If you can think of a safe form to jet off in, you might make yourself a deal. How'd you like to stay here?"
"I don't know," said Kolin. "The penalty for desertion—"
"Whoosh! Who'd find you? You could be a bird, a tree, even a cloud."
Silenced but doubting, Kolin permitted himself to try the dream on for size.
He considered what form might most easily escape the notice of search parties and still be tough enough to live a long time without renewal. Another factor slipped into his musings: mere hope of escape was unsatisfying after the outburst that had defined his fuming hatred for Haurtoz.
I'd better watch myself! he thought. Don't drop diamonds to grab at stars!
"What I wish I could do is not just get away but get even for the way they make us live … the whole damn set-up. They could just as easy make peace with the Earth colonies. You know why they don't?"
"Why?" wheezed Ashlew.
"They're scared that without talk of war, and scouting for Earth fleets that never come, people would have time to think about the way they have to live and who's running things in the Planetary State. Then the gravy train would get blown up—and I mean blown up!"