“Yeah, if they only—” He stopped. “We’ll fight each other!” he said. “These people look at suicide as war. Wouldn’t they look upon war—real fighting—as suicide?”
“What good would that do us?” Donnaught asked.
They were coming into the city now and the streets were lined with armed natives. Around the city there were thousands more. Natives were filling the plain, as far as the eye could see. Evidently they had responded to the drums and were here to do battle with the aliens.
Which meant, of course, a wholesale suicide.
“Look at it this way,” Fanni said. “If a guy plans on suicide on Earth, what do we do?”
“Arrest him?” Donnaught asked.
“Not at first. We offer him anything he wants, if he just won’t do it. People offer the guy money, a job, their daughters, anything, just so he won’t do it. It’s taboo on Earth.”
“So?”
“So,” Fannia went on, “maybe fighting is just as taboo here. Maybe they’ll offer us fuel, if we’ll just stop.”
Donnaught looked dubious, but Fannia felt it was worth a try.