"Tomorrow, we end it; by evening, no more. Equality on the Ark, yes, but that's not of primary importance. We will destroy the machinery which can make mutants. No fresh variants will arise, and that is more important. Now, your plans."
Another ridge-head stood up. "At ten hours, twelve minutes, my men take the astro-room."
A chunky mutant with scales covering his chest: "We converge, along with Flam-harol's squad, on the armory. Also at ten hours, twelve minutes."
Second scaled mutant: "The Mutant-maker's quarters. We take the reins of government at ten hours, thirty five minutes."
Lithely, Cluny-ann got to her feet. "The Chamber of Change, at ten hours, forty minutes. I lead my women there, and it is hoped that with so much confusion elsewhere, we'll be able to destroy the machinery. But—"
"But what?" Flam-harol said. "We appreciate the aid of you non-mutants. Yet if you have any doubts—"
"It's not that," Cluny-ann told him. "I don't think our revolution will be enough; that's all."
"What more is there?"
"I don't know! If I knew, that would be different. I suspect that the whole thing may start over again before we know it."
Flam-harol shook his head. "I don't understand."