"Yes? How do you know? You've never...."
"I don't know. But Amos Westler always said so."
"Westler!" Starbuck spat contemptuously. "A reader of books. We go out to hunt or raid, Westler seeks his books and grows soft looking through them."
"With more Westlers and less Starbucks in the world," Diane began, "we probably wouldn't have had to fight three World Wars and never would have—"
"That's enough," said Starbuck, his eyes darting suspiciously to the old woman, who was taking in their conversation with an amused look on her face.
"It is quite enough," agreed the old woman. "If you want to last here more than a few days."
"Can the Robots actually understand us?" Starbuck asked.
The old woman shrugged thin shoulders. "Some say they can read our minds. It is not important. Those of us who rule can understand. Since they can somehow communicate with the Robots, it is the same thing."
"We will conform," promised Starbuck.
"Like robots of robots," said Diane bitterly.