“No.”
“You should. At any rate, New Delos is a theocracy. A priesthood elite rules it. A God-King, who is immortal, holds absolute authority. The strongest of superstition plus an efficient inquisition, keeps the people under control.”
“Sounds terrible,” Ronny growled.
“Why? Possibly the government is extremely efficient and under it the planet progressing at a rate in advance of UP averages.”
He stared at her in surprise.
She said, “Would you rather be ruled by the personal, arbitrary whims of supremely wise men, or by laws formulated by a mob?”
It stopped him momentarily. In all his adult years, he couldn't remember ever meeting an intelligent, educated person who had been opposed to the democratic theory.
“Wait a minute, now,” he said. “Who decides that they're supremely wise men who are doing this arbitrary ruling? Let any group come to power, by whatever means, and they'll soon tell you they're an elite. But let's get back to New Delos, from what you've said so far, the people are held in a condition of slavery.”
“What's wrong with slavery?” Tog said mildly.
He all but glared at her. “Are you kidding?”