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."
"Never," agreed grandmother firmly.
Thorby wondered what Pop would think? Shucks, he knew! -- Pop cut 'em down like grass to rescue a load of slaves. "What do you do when a raider jumps you?"
"A what?"
"A pirate. You've got a pirate on your tail and closing fast."
"Why, you run, I suppose. It's not moral to stay and do battle. Thor, nothing is ever gained by violence."
"But you can't run; he has more legs. It's you or him."
"You mean 'he.' Then you surrender; that defeats his purpose . . . as the immortal Gandhi proved."
Thorby took a deep breath. "Grandfather, I'm sorry but it doesn't defeat his purpose. You have to fight Raiders take slaves. The proudest thing I ever did was to burn one."
"Eh? 'Burn one'?"
"Hit him with a target-seeker. Blast him out of the sky."
Grandmother gasped. At last his grandfather said stiffly, "Thor, I'm afraid you've been exposed to bad influences. Not your fault, perhaps. But you have many misconceptions, both in fact and in evaluation. Now be logical. If you 'burned him' as you say, how do you know he intended -- again, as you say -- to 'take slaves'? What could he do with them? Nothing."
Thorby kept silent. It made a difference which side of the Plaza you saw a thing from . . . and if you didn't have status, you weren't listened to. That was a universal rule.
Grandfather Bradley continued, "So we'll say no more about it
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