"Damage all that. Damage everything which carries us along so smoothly, and what will happen? We'd either all join together to conquer the new challenge, or we'd perish."
"You'd take a chance like that?" Ker-jon demanded.
Cluny-ann nodded vigorously. "We have to. It's either that or we'll sink lower and lower, until there's nothing left of civilization."
"Okay," Ker-jon spread his hands out wide. "You're both way ahead of me. How will we do it?"
The albino smiled. "We've found the old records which explain how the Ark runs. With them to guide us, we'll try our hand at sabotage."
"Hold on. Just hold on! Why do you have to do that? If you have the records, why don't you simply take control of the machinery and force Flam-harol and his crew to step down."
The albino shook his head. "That's precisely what we won't do. All the Ark has ever had to face was human challenge, one man usurping control from another. That extends down to all levels, Ker-jon. We have to make a complete break with that tradition, or we'll find ourselves right back where we started from, just as Flam-harol did. Psych-tech Ab'nath will stand behind me on that, and he knows what he's talking about."
"You're telling me," Ker-jon said, remembering the dream.
"Then it's agreed. You and the girl will study the records, learn the location and function of each piece of machinery on the Ark. There are just a half dozen of us: Ab'nath, the two 'policemen', Cluny-ann, you, myself. When you're ready we'll do some fancy tinkering with the key mechanisms. And this is important, Ker-jon: we must be so thorough that, alone and without either additional education or aid from others, we won't be able to repair the damage. A danger, yes—but that's the only way it will work."