"How can you hurt something that's uninjurable?" the Butcher demanded scathingly. "An uninj isn't really a dog. It's just a lot of circuits and a micropack bedded in hyperplastic." He looked at Brute with guarded wistfulness. "I don't know about that," Hal put in. "I've heard an uninj is programmed with so many genuine canine reactions that it practically has racial memory." "I mean if you could hurt an uninj," Joggy amended. "Well, maybe I wouldn't," the Butcher admitted grudgingly. "But shut up—I want to think." "About what?" Hal asked with saintly reasonableness. The Butcher achieved a fearful frown. "When I'm World Director," he said slowly, "I'm going to have warfare again." "You think so now," Hal told him. "We all do at your age." "We do not," the Butcher retorted. "I bet you didn't." "Oh, yes, I was foolish, too," the older boy confessed readily. "All newborn organisms are self-centered and inconsiderate and ruthless. They have to be. That's why we have uninjes to work out on, and death games and fear houses, so that our emotions are cleared for adult conditioning. And it's just the same with newborn civilizations. Why, long after atom power and the space drive were discovered, people kept having wars and revolutions. It took ages to condition them differently. Of course, you can't appreciate it this year, but Man's greatest achievement was when he learned to automatically reject all violent solutions to problems. You'll realize that when you're older." "I will not!" the Butcher countered hotly. "I'm not going to be a sissy." Hal and Joggy blinked at the unfamiliar word. "And what if we were attacked by bloodthirsty monsters from outside the Solar System?" "The Space Fleet would take care of them," Hal replied calmly. "That's what it's for. Adults aren't conditioned to reject violent solutions to problems where non-human enemies are concerned. Look at what we did to viruses." "But what if somebody got at us through the Time Bubble?" "They can't. It's impossible." "Yes, but suppose they did all the same."