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"Any more than I'd let them destroy you. Sentient life is sentient life."
"No," said Planter. "With ramen you can live and let live. But with varelse, there can be no dialogue. Only war."
"No such thing," Quara said. Then she launched into the same arguments she had used when Miro talked to her.
When she was finished, there was silence for a while.
"Are they talking still?" Ela whispered to the people who were watching in the visual monitors. Miro didn't hear an answer-- somebody probably shook his head no.
"Quara," whispered Planter.
"I'm still here," she answered. To her credit, the argumentative tone was gone from her voice again. She had taken no joy from her cruel moral correctness.
"That's not why you're refusing to help," he said.
"Yes it is."
"You'd help in a minute if it weren't your own family you had to surrender to."
"Not true!" she shouted.
So-- Planter struck a nerve.
"You're only so sure you're right because they're so sure you're wrong."
"I am right!"
"When have you ever seen someone who had no doubts who was also correct about anything?" "I have doubts," whispered Quara.
"Listen to your doubts," said Planter. "Save my people. And yours."
"Who am I to decide between the descolada and our people?"
"Exactly," said Planter. "Who are you to make such a decision?"
"I'm not," she said. "I'm withholding a decision."