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288 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1962
Tankar struggled to comprehend their nomadic way of life. "And you can live this way, without roots?"
"Not only can we, we wouldn't want to live any other way!" exclaimed Orena.
"You don't like planetaries?"
"Who does?" She shrugged. "They forced our ancestors into exile. It ended up being a good thing, but it wasn't well intentioned."
"How am I responsible for the behavior of my ancestors? I don't think mine were even involved."
"We are the products of our worlds, Tankar."
"Pfft. I'm an advantist, and she's a conservative. And anyway, how many times have you met two attractive women who like each other?"
He paced, drunk with rage and shame. How could he, a lieutenant of the Stellar Guard, have allowed her to toy with him? He looked for harsh enough words to describe her - treacherous and manipulative bitch. The rules of the Guards were wise: women were to be used for pleasure and to incubate future Guards.
Now he was driven by one wish and one wish only: revenge. He would love to batter her lovely lips with his fists, smash her lying mouth, but even that was not enough. Did he want to kill her? Should he challenge her to a duel? He was not sure that he, as a man, could do that."
Like the idiotic duels, which no true man should take part in. If the point is to show bravery, there are far better ways."
"You really don't understand, do you? We all take personal responsibility for our actions, and that's the basis of our freedom."