Luma had turned out en masse to welcome Andra and her two companions. Karn had been the center of attraction and interest for a few minutes. But it was the report of the three Mahloans which mattered most.
Andra gave it to them straight. There was no hope elsewhere. The Green Ones were only minor terrors among the blood-lusting creatures the Universe had spawned. Unless the men of Mahlo fought back they were doomed.
Yet Karn saw no sign that a fight was even imaginable. Shoulders sagged, heads dropped in resignation, but that was all. As he and his three companions walked with the throng to the Council forum, Karn saw brows knit in contemplation, none in anger.
There were as many women as men in the great hall of assembly. They cast no votes, but they had plenty to say.
“We might consider retreating to the northern deserts,” Ven said after he had called the meeting to order.
The women shouted him down. What it was that the women wanted, Karn could not guess. But the men quailed before them and became confused. The most important assembly in Mahlo’s history was going to break up with nothing done.
“We can only wait, then,” Ven said regretfully. A chorus of assent rose like a dirge.
It was all Karn could take. For himself death was nothing. All his life had been lived in its shadow. But that Andra should fall into the hands of the Green Ones was another thing. And that these men should allow their women to meet similar fates filled him with contempt.
“You can do something!” he shouted, coming to his feet. “You can fight!”
Beside him Andra pulled at his arm.