"And these criminals who forced us to do the thing?" demanded a Vardda recalcitrant, glaring at Trehearne and his fellows.
"We have no choice there," Ristin said dryly. "To punish them for what they did would belie our own announcement. The ordinary charges against them can be dismissed."
"So that for their crime they go unpunished?"
Ristin sighed regretfully. "The interests of the state demand it. Yes."
Trehearne's comrades were breaking down, half stunned, half incredulous of the victory they had thought beyond them. But strangely Trehearne was not thinking of what they had won for the Galaxy races. He was feeling a pride that Joris' phrase, "We Vardda," had kindled in him.
"We Vardda—"
And he was one of them. He was one of the starlords, the first, the oldest, the greatest of the starmen.
Edri was thinking of something else. He had stepped forward amid the general clamor to speak to Ristin. "There is one more thing. Orthis—"
"A cruiser has been sent to guard his ship," said Ristin.
Edri nodded painfully. "But Orthis was not ever child of a planet. He was star-born, dwelling always between the stars. He has sat long on that far world. If his ship could take space again...."