"You were in the Frontier Guards, where men still have to think for themselves to survive, and we were hoping you would understand why we don't want to start another ant hill here."
He could understand—but now, after thirty years of planning and fighting, he was only one step from the top.
"There will be Technogration," he said.
"We thought you would say that." Kennedy's expression did not change. "We hoped we would be wrong."
An ecstatic yelping sounded suddenly from nearby and something brown and white raced across the firelit ground with a laughing boy in pursuit. Thane stared.
It was a dog.
He had not seen one for thirty years. Technogration prohibited the owning of pets as an unnecessary drain upon the planned economy and as non-contributive to the Common Good.
"We knew about the regulations," Kennedy said, "but children need pets to love and be loved by. She's going to have pups—only she and Lornie's kitten were left." The old man's eyes watched him closely, questioningly. "Surely, no one will object to them?"
The dog circled back and a dark haired young woman beyond another fire called to it: "Binkie—come here!"
The dog obeyed, its tail drooping a little, and the woman looked uncertainly in Thane's direction before she disappeared back in the shadows, the dog close behind her. The boy followed, asking, "Why did you stop us, Blanche?"