Indan Ko scowled and thought for a moment. This huge Terran that
crowded his palace like a giant in a doll's house was not making sense.
"I do not understand."
"Terra is known as the Planet of Terror," said Billy, "because of the
evolutionary system caused by the hard radiation in that district.
You have seen the viciousness of our fungus, our micro-organisms, of
our life itself. Could the Loard-vogh stand up against a bombardment,
planet by planet, of fungus-spores so tenacious that they grow on
synthetic resins? Stellor Downing held a Sscantovian guinea pig in one
hand for a moment and it died a most horrible death within minutes
because of fungi that were innocuous to him. In my ship there is a
slab of rare cheese. Delicious stuff, and what Terrans call 'quite
high' because it is growing a full beard of mold. Could you--or the
Loard-vogh--spread it on a slice of bread and eat it with impunity?"
"Definitely not."
"Seventeen million of the Loard-vogh died in the Battle of Sol, and
more than half of them perished because Terran spores crept into chinks
in their space armor. Chinks so small that they do not permit loss of
air in space.
"You see, Indan Ko, the fear of Terra that drove the Loard-vogh frantic
was because they thought that Terra would send out myriad after myriad
of tiny spacecraft, loaded to the bomb bay doors with minute spore
bombs. That we could have done. But we did not."
"That was your secret weapon?"
Billy shook his head. "Terra's secret weapon is her ability to grasp
opportunity. Which brings me to the point of this interview. The
Loard-vogh have a twenty-thousand year plan of conquest. No race can
hope to stop them alone. No race in the course of a year, a hundred
years, or even a thousand years could hope to defeat them alone."
"Terra could."
"That is not defeat. That is extermination."
"The Loard-vogh should be exterminated!" thundered Indan Ko. The little
man's thunder was slightly high-pitched to the Terran and not at all
awe-inspiring. Billy merely smiled.
"It is not for any race to render sterile of life one quarter of the
Galaxy. Extermination is not victory. War by proper definition is a
measure used to impose your will upon a non-co-operative government.
Even the Loard-vogh understand that a dead slave is no good.
Extermination may be _your_ will, Tlemban, but you will fail in your
conquest. Therefore I ask that you use intelligence. Stop lashing out
like a hurt child. Stop shooting at the cliffs of living rock. The way
to win is to husband your strength. Roll with the punches. Take them
easy. Wait until you are set, and see the proper opening, and then
drive forward. Collect allies in your stride, and play the double-game.
Use your diplomatic ability."
"You plan a long-time retaliation?"
"Our plans are nebulous at present. Terra fought for one thing alone,
and that was to gain the respect of a race that has only contempt for
those that bow their heads willingly. Had we invited them in instead of
fighting, they would have suspected foul play. We fought hard enough to
convince them that we meant business. After all, our planetary heritage
is such that we would be out of character if we gave in without a
fight. Ergo we fought.
"Tlembo," went on Billy quietly, "has been frantic so long that she
has lost perspective. That I claim, and it is deplorable, but not so
damaging as to lose hope of repairing. Tlembo has been nicked again
and again in her effort to find a savior. Her continued defeats have
made her bitter, and ever more determined to win via the crushing
defeat route. Consider this, Indan Ko, and then tell me if you think
you are right in continuing to bring minor factors to bear against the
Loard-vogh."
"And what would you suggest that we do?"
* * * * *
"Go to Vorgan. Ask immunity and audience. Vorgan is not without honor.
He will respect your request for immunity. Then tell Vorgan that you
fear the strength of his fighting forces, and that you will cease your
constant effort to undermine the Loard-vogh. Tell him that Tlembo has
certain factors that will enhance the Loard-vogh culture--you and he
know what they are, as I do--and offer him those factors in exchange
for Tlemban integrity."
"I dislike it."
"Naturally. But look, Indan Ko. You will be taxed terribly. You will be
forced into handing over a certain percentage of your wealth. You will
work for them, and for little remuneration. Yet your hardships will
actually be less than the cost of fighting them. Now you must maintain
a fleet, arm your cities against invasion, and always prepare for
war. If you submit to the Loard-vogh banner you will be protected by
the Loard-vogh, and may Heaven help any race that attacks Tlembo? The
income you spend in being a nominal slave will be less than the amount
spent in being an armed free-world."
"And eventual conquest?"
"Console yourselves with the certain knowledge that your hardships will
all be avenged sometime. Not in your life, perhaps, but in the time
of your descendants. Submit to their hard, exacting rules in outward
abjection, but keep your mind forever on the future, when it will
no longer prevail. And as you go, and as you find other races that
are suitable, send their representatives to Terra. Terra will be the
master-control of the anti-Loard-vogh combine."
"I shall think it over and discuss it with the Tlemban council. But
what of Sscantoo?"
"Linzete must understand, also."
"But Hotang Lu is there now."
"What! Filling Linzete full of the theory of bombing the Loard-vogh
with Solar spores?"
Indan Ko nodded.
"Then I must go--and quickly!"
"Your trip will take months," objected Indan Ko. "Meanwhile, Linzete
may set his machinery in operation."
"Contact him," said Billy. "And have him smooth it down a bit. My trip
will not take months. I'll be there in days."
"Days!"
"Yes. We have a new mode of space travel. It will be yours as soon as
you decide to join the Loard-vogh--"
"Terran, it sounds as though you were helping them."
"Naturally it does. Until we are ready to strike, we must aid them
completely--and always remember that what we find and give them we will
have ourselves. No single weapon won a war, Indan Ko. But if we can
match them man for man, we will win because our wits are sharper. Now I
must waste no time in getting to Sscantoo."
* * * * *
Billy's exodus from the Tlemban capitol building was more arduous than
his entry. This time he was in a hurry, and moving swiftly through
corridors too small for him, brushing doll-sized furniture with his
mass, and crushing not a few of the smaller and more fragile pieces in
his haste--to say nothing of squeezing two doors from their hinges in
his passage--they all hampered him. Tlembo was going to pay well for
this visit.
Outside, Billy towered above the Tlembans as he strode up the middle
of the street, his head not more than a few inches below the trolley
wire that fed the street car system. Traffic policemen gave him
passage, for he could be seen for blocks. He turned into the spaceport
and entered his ship.
He was met by Cliff Lane.
"How'd it go?"
"I think we got him. There'll be no more trouble from that sector."
"Good. Now what?"
"We whip this horse into action and head for Sscantoo. On the triple.
Hotang Lu is there, telling Linzete of his danger and urging him to get
set for conquest."
"Linzete is going to be a tougher nut to crack," observed Lane. "Well,
let's get going. I've a few items to tell about Hendrick's researches
in subspace matter."
Thompson's ship rose sharply, plunged into space, and then the
distorting beam in the control room started to function.
"Think you can hit Sscantoo?" asked Billy.
"Breeze," smiled the pilot.
"But look, Tony, that's a long way off."
"So's Terra," answered Tony laconically. "We hit Tlembo all right,
didn't we?"
"O.K., you're the pilot. Drop me on Sscantoo, and I'll invite you to a
drink."
"A deal," grinned Tony. A moment later the pressure was built up, and
the ship was wrenched into subspace. Then began the long, long journey
to Sscantoo which would take less than a few days in the universe from
which they came.
"Now," said Thompson to Lane, "what's with Hendricks and his
researches?"
"So far, subspace matter is enigmatic. It does not combine atomically
or chemically with normal matter. It shows other physical properties,
however. They separated the sample by the ancient method of using the
various melting points and specific masses. The stuff has no gravitic
attraction, but it has mass, you know, and they used a centrifuge on
it. They got two kinds of matter. One we'll call metal for the simple
reason that it conducts electricity. The others are nonmetals because
they do not conduct electricity. There was a small quantity of a light
blue gas that was occluded in the dirt, it boiled off early and they
caught it. Well, if nothing else, it will come in handy for surgeon's
tools, chemical hardware, and the like, since you can put anything into
it and it will not dissolve or go into chemical combinations. I betcha
we got something to hold the Universal Solvent."
"Yeah," grinned Billy. "Takes something strictly out of this world to
do it, though."
"Since there's no weight to it, the stuff still heads for the roof.
The gas, they say, boiled off down, since the vapor pressure and
atmospheric brownian movement drove it that way. Good stuff for
antibends atmospheres, I'd say. Mix it with twenty percent oxygen
and breathe it. It will not dissolve, at least no detectable loss is
noticed with the instruments that Hendricks has."
"There's a brand new system of chemistry, nuclear physics, and
garden-variety physics out there," said Billy. "We've opened up a new
field, or maybe two. Well, we've got several months here. Let's get to
work."
* * * * *
Vorgan, Lord of All, smiled in a puzzled manner. "You have my word," he
said. "Your immunity is granted. Complete and absolute immunity, with
the right to speak as you wish without fear of reprisals. What is the
nature of this visit?"
Indan Ko shifted nervously. He felt a great uncomfortable fear of this
vast room, that seemed to stretch endlessly. The dais upon which Vorgan
sat was like a mountain to the little man, and each step was knee-high
to Indan Ko.
"Tlembo is weary," said Indan Ko. "Yet we are bitterly afraid."
"Of what?"
"Slavery."