"Yes," she said scornfully, "freedom for the children of the Root-Diggers. But you come to Panamia for that freedom!"
"We told you we're not Root-Diggers," Johnathon said. "You can hardly compare us with that tribe of poor devils. But even their state is better than living like a slave in Panamia."
The woman laughed bitterly. "If you are not Root-Diggers, why do you come to hurt Panamia and The Leader? It is because of you people that we are warred upon and must always sacrifice."
Franz rose and faced the woman. "Kathryn, you're wrong," he said. "The Root-Diggers are not warring with Panamia. They are only men and women like ourselves who have been banned from Panamia. The Leader had them purged before they were forced outside so that they are sterile and have only half their wits. They have to live like animals, eating roots and berries and bugs and insects. Those are the Root-Diggers your Leader uses to frighten you."
The woman clenched her fists until the knuckles showed white. "You lie!" she screamed. "The Leader tells the truth."
"No, it's not a lie. We have all seen them," Sten said quietly.
The men sat in silence while the woman wept.
Karl reached out and ate a bit of the woman's food. "What sort of gruel is this stuff, I wonder. It needs salt."
"Salt," commented Franz, "is the greatest luxury in the city. Because of the Root-Diggers, you know. There is a grave shortage. The people crave it more than anything else and will go to any lengths to get an extra ration of it."
Sten shook his head. "And they blame it on those poor beasts outside." He rose and began nervously pacing the floor. "Franz, we have to move quickly. The others will leave if we don't meet them on time. Do you think she will go with us? Will she help us get others?"