"Superficially that sounds good," said Glawen.
"But it would seem something like a special case. It does not address the situation here on Cadwal, where a colony of illegal vagabonds, who should not be here in the first place, far outnumbers the hardworking folk of Araminta Station. If you gave them the vote, they'd blow us away."
Julian laughed.
"I will generalize, to clarify my point. In the largest morality, the first axiom ordains equality, which means equal perquisites, equal treatment before the law and an equal share' of decision- making power for each member of every civilized race: in short, a truly universal democracy. And that is a truly universal morality."
Once again Milo protested: "Please, Julian! Can't you get your head out of the clouds? This isn't morality; it's Peefer egalitarianism in its most hypertrophied form. What is the point of expounding these windy platitudes when you know them to be, at the very least, unpractical?"
"Is democracy impractical? Is this what you are saying?"
Glawen said: "As I recall. Baron Bodissey had something to say on the subject."
"Oh? Was he pro or con?"
"Neither. He pointed out that democracy could function only in a relatively homogeneous society of equivalent individuals. He described a district dedicated to democracy where the citizenry consisted of two hundred wolves and nine hundred squirrels. When zoning ordinances and public health laws were put into effect, the wolves were obliged to live in trees and eat nuts."
"Bah," said Julian.
"Baron Bodissey was a man from the Eocene."
"And I am off to bed," said Milo.
"Today has been long and eventful, with two major achievements. We have designed Julian's overpass and defined for once and all the term 'morality." Tomorrow may well be as productive. Goodnight, all!"
Milo departed. For a period the three sat in silence, Glawen hoping that Julian would also go off to bed. Julian showed no disposition to do so, and Glawen suddenly realized that, in fact, Julian was determined to out wait him. Glawen instantly rose to his feet; Clattuc vanity debarred him from so ignoble a competition. He bade Wayness and Julian goodnight and went off to his room.
Wayness stirred in her chair.
"I think I'm for bed, as well."
Julian spoke softly: "The night is young! Sit out with me for a while! I'm anxious to talk to you."
Wayness reluctantly settled back in her chair.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"I can't believe you meant what you said before dinner tonight. Tell me I'm right."
Wayness rose to her feet.
"I'm afraid that you're wrong. Our lives go in different directions and now I'm going to bed.
And please don't sit out here brooding all the night."
For a time Wayness lay awake, her mind too active for relaxation, listening to the sounds which drifted across the night and through her window. Finally she fell asleep.
In the morning the four arrayed themselves in riding habits provided by the lodge; then, after breakfast, went out to the stables. Glawen brought along a case containing the guns which all would carry in their saddle holsters, as a safety precaution.
In front of the stables four hunters awaited them, with blinders in place over the optic stalks. The hunters were prepared for riding, each with a saddle clamped into the notch in its dorsal ridge. Each saddle was painted a different color: blue, gray, orange and green, by which the bunters could be identified one from the other.
Wayness looked over the bunters with a dubious droop to her mouth. She had expected sullen, graceless and ill-smelling animals, but these four hulks eclipsed her most vivid imaginings.
Wayness tried to reassure '.-.erself.
"It is sheer projection, of how I would feel if I were asked to carry tourists on my back."
Wayness renewed her study of the bunters. Their sheer bulk was daunting in itself. Each stood six feet high, on six splayed legs, to the serrated upper edge of its dorsal ridge, and measured from eleven to twelve feet in length, exclusive of its tail: a linkage of bony nodules seven feet long. The dorsal ridge at the front terminated in a head of naked bony segments from which depended a flexible proboscis, of an unpleasant pale blue color. Optic stalks lifted from tufts of black fur;
these were now covered over by leather cup-shaped blinders.
The skin, mottled liver red, gray and purple, hung in flaps and folds and gave off an unpleasant musty odor. Immediately forward of a hump at the base of the creature's tail the saddles were clamped. A pair of chains attached to the harness constricted the proboscis, and a pole taped to the tail protected the rider, that he might not be lashed or plucked from the saddle.
Wayness asked Glawen: "Are we really sure that all of us want to ride these nightmarish animals?"
"Stay at the lodge, if you like," said Glawen.
"There's nothing | much to see at Lake Dimple, and nothing to do except look for magic | stones."
"I've always been considered at least as reckless as Milo.
If he goes, I'll go. Still, I'd prefer to ride something less intimidating."
"For the usual run of tourists, the burners are just right," said Glawen.
"They'd ride the devil himself to Lake Dimple if they were sure the pictures would turn out well."" "A final point, and I think an important one," said Wayness.
"After I mount the beast and it starts running, how do I control it?"
