"Better that," chuckled Steve, "than somebody who's going to. Don't look now, pal, but I'm a ranking noble of the Daans."
"You're—what?" Chuck's grin faded abruptly. "You mean, Steve, the bunch was right? You have sold us out? Gone over to their side?"
Steve stared at him long and steadily.
"Do you have to ask that, Chuck?"
And Chuck's eyes fell, then raised again slowly.
"No, I don't. I don't even know why the words came out, Steve. But that's what some of them have been saying. Beth and me and the Mother Maatha and maybe a few others, we're just about the only ones left who still believe in you."
Steve said soberly, "Loovil was that bad, Chuck?"
Chuck nodded. "It was worse. We were just getting settled when the Daan warship came. We were powerless. I don't think there's one stone left on another in that city. And—you see what's left of our 'tremendous army' of two thousand.
"But—" He shook his head and with that gesture tried to dismiss visions of horror forever indelibly imprinted on his mind—"but there's no use talking about that now. What's next on the program? You're here to free us, ain't you? Have we got a half-way fighting chance to—?"