But even he was forced to admit to himself that he hadn't expected this sort of treatment at the hands of the invaders. After all, they had approached the Daan fortress openly, had neither evaded nor attempted to withstand these others. More humane captors would, under the circumstances, have dispensed with the added humiliation of gyves. Not so the Daans. From their harnesses they uncoiled lengths of plastic rope, pliant but incredibly tough. With this they lashed their prisoners, linked them in single file, and herded them across the bridge to the fortress-city.
Vainly Steve tried to reason with the corps captain, demanding to know why he and his comrades had been bound; the Venusian merely grunted and, with the muzzle of his odd hand-weapon, prodded him to silence.
Only von Rath seemed to understand the reason behind the Daans' high-handed treatment. To Steve he said stolidly, "But of course they take us prisoner. They could not well do otherwise, could they? After all, we are their enemies."
"But we surrendered freely. We are entitled to sane and decent treatment—"
The Nazi shook his head disdainfully.
"Ach, you Yankees! Always the dreamers! Warfare is no silly child's game, mein Leutnant. It is a grim business. The true warrior never trusts nor turns his back on his antagonist. As for treatment—the conqueror treats his prisoner as just what he is: a conquered foe. That is realism!"
Steve said caustically, "Yes. I know what you mean. We've all heard about your Nazi concentration camps."
Von Rath shrugged.
"What would you have us do with our captives, coddle them like house-pets?"
"At least," commented Steve, "give them clothing and shelter, sufficient food and medical attention, as we do your soldiers in our prison-camps."