The door slammed behind him. Starza smiled at me. "What do you think, Jake?"
"Tichnat. The second I got out of there, the thoughtcaster stopped."
"Doesn't mean a thing. They can beam through solid rock. Hundred-foot radius."
"No exploitation," I mused.
"Fanatics," Starza said. "They'd impede the progress of man. Sacrifice man's rightful place in the cosmos for the sake of—crawling things! We'll fight them, Jake!"
Tichnat entered. He stood stiffly before Starza's desk, his antennae a cheerful emerald.
Starza said carefully, "What do you know about the Guild?"
"Impractical visionaries," Tichnat clicked. "Lovers of statis, well-meaning fools. They approached me yesterday."
A vein throbbed purple in Starza's forehead. Yet he kept his voice soft. "And you didn't report it?"
"And precipitate a crisis?" Tichnat sounded amused. "I was asked if my people were being persecuted. Had I answered in the affirmative there might have been repercussions, perhaps a sequel to Proycon. Oh yes, we know of Proycon. Your foremen are sometimes indiscreet."