In recent days, their common knowledge had drawn them together; before, they had scarcely spoken. Whenever they talked now, they used English, partly as a recognition of their kindred uniqueness, partly as a futile subconscious attempt to outwit the spy tapes.
"It's a ridiculous planet," Herb said.
"Yes, a ridiculous planet," William agreed.
"Freedom," Herb said. "That is nonsense."
"Equality," William said. "Equality. They are down right silly."
"You wouldn't think a place like that could exist, a silly place like that, where a man can actually say whatever silly idea pops into his mind."
"Yes," William said. "They should be destroyed—even if it wasn't necessary, they should be destroyed."
Herb was silent for a moment. The microphones listened. Then: "Imagine how awful it would be to live down there, with no one to do your thinking for you."
"The natural leaders aren't even recognized. You can't tell an Oligarch from a Subject."
"I'd never like to live in a place like that," Herb said. I dreamed of it, he wanted to say, and I dreamed that Brionimar had been changed into Earth, and there was no Oligarchy, and a man was free. "It's like a nightmare," he said.