"It's the explanation for a lot of things," said Hamilton. "Their
concentration of forces against selected targets, for instance. Their
use of the barrier."
"Naturally," came the Mephistan's thought.
"I thought you couldn't tune to them," remarked Guy.
"They spoke to you--your mind followed their speech; I followed your
mind. I can not talk to them direct."
"I see. It's logical. But why did you permit us to get this far?"
"You are alien; tuning the instrument to your very alien minds was a
matter of hundreds of years. We have been trying, and only succeeded
after the first horde of you came close--landed upon Ungre--and gave us
a large thought-input to work on."
"But why did your kind fight us from the very beginning?"
"Because we know what manner of mind you have. We saw it in action
before."
"Surely you knew that we would negotiate with you?"
"To our disadvantage."
"Not necessarily."
"Don't be ridiculous," came the thought. "You and I both know that the
Solar System is not large enough for both our kinds."
"We have no desire to own your world."
"No? Then what are you fighting for?"
"For the right to negotiate with you--and to uphold our honor. After
all, we were fired upon without provocation."
"You are the commander of the Terran forces here. Suppose a race came
to Terra. Suppose this race was one you knew to be absolutely ruthless,
grasping, ambitious, and proud. Suppose you knew this hypothetical race
to be the one that used a minor race as subjects in vivisection; and
because of valuable minerals on another planet, this race oppressed
still another race and held them in ignorance so that the true value of
the minerals was not known to the ignorant natives."
"You're speaking of the troglodytes of Titan--who haven't the power of
reason. Why shouldn't we use their bodies as experimental subjects to
aid our researches into the subject of medicine?"
"Because they, themselves, are life!" came the scathing thought.
"Given the opportunity, they develop reasoning minds and are quite
intelligent. Their environment holds them back. Titan is a poor place,
destitute of minerals and unproductive of easy living, such as is
necessary for civic advancement."
"That I do not follow."
"In order that a race advance, he must have time to think. That means
leisure. His living must come easy enough to give this race time to
think, and to dream, and to plan. When scratching a living out of
nature becomes a full-time job, little civic advancement can prevail.
Also, on Titan, he is already supreme as far as his native enemies
go. There is nothing to drive the Titan to his fellows for mutual
protection. Each Titan is alone because he has nothing to fear, not
even his own kind.
"But," continued the Mephistan, "give him the opportunity, and you
will find that the Titan can evolve into intelligent life. Say three
generations!"
* * * * *
Guy let this matter drop, and said: "And your other statement pertains
to Pluto."
"Certainly. Valuable ores were found on Pluto. Also a race of
semi-intelligent natives. They traded worthless bits of glass and
glittering, chromium-plated jewelry for gray and shapeless masses of
dirt--but the dirt must be excavated from certain locations, and in
certain ways. To keep the ores moving, and at this ridiculous rate of
exchange, no program of education was installed on your Pluto. Even
your Men of God--missionaries--obscured the real value of those ores.
What did you give them in exchange?"
"We gave them protection against a common enemy."
"An enemy of yours that would probably have treated them no worse than
you did. The protection you prattle of was protection of your own mines
against the enemy, not of the natives against this enemy. In either
case, the natives would be no better off."
"You paint our race as black-hearted," said Guy.
"And what did you do?" came the cynical thought. "As soon as you
discovered this barrier-screen, you raised it over Pluto, and the rise
in temperature, good for Terrans, killed the Plutonians to the last
one! A benign race? Bah!"
"We--"
"Nothing you say will convince me that your main desire is not for
yourselves! And if you think for one moment that we will permit you to
throw up a barrier around Mephisto and kill us off, you're mistaken."
"You're all convinced that we mean harm?"
"You do!" The creature tapped the thought-beam instrument.
"I presume that you speak for the entire race?"
"I do. You, with your so-called democratic government; with your
populace swayed by orators; with your justice biased with bribery; with
your elections purchased by the highest bidder, could not possibly
understand how a race could hold an honest government. But we do," said
the Mephistan proudly. Again he tapped the thought-beam instrument.
"This instrument tells the truth! No silvery-tongued orator can
sway the people; no biased judge can color the evidence; no public
servant can buy an election, for problems of state are presented via
thought-wave, and a liar is detected! When you first advanced into the
planets, we saw your progress. And when we found you in our system, we
knew your real thoughts at last! We broadcast your hidden purpose and
to the last Mephistan, we decided to fight! To the last one of us we
will fight, for we know that your purpose is to move in on us and run
us to death. We have nothing to lose but our lives, and those we will
lose if we permit your invasion."
"You hold us in deep contempt," said Maynard. "Therefore your
statements themselves are biased."
"They are not. Perhaps, with this instrument, we know you better than
you do yourselves. You are death for us--unless we become death for
you!"
"But what can we do when you fire upon us without provocation?"
"Stop prattling about provocation," came the thought. "When a burglar
pries his way into your living room, do you wait until he collects your
valuables before you fire on him?"
"Now we're burglars?"
"Worse. A burglar knows that he is doing wrong."
Guy shook his head. How could he make this creature see that Terra
meant no real harm until the Mephistans made the first aggressive move?
"You made the first aggressive move," said the Mephistan. "You made it
when you first landed on Titan. You made the second on Pluto. What is
your feeling toward Mars? You plan extermination for them--and they
only desire to grow with you."
"They--"
"Only fought back when you fought them. Only this"--tapping the
instrument at his belt--"will keep us from falling in death. You,
yourself, brought home many new concepts from Ertene which will throw
the balance of power for Terra."
Guy started, and then looked wildly around at the other officers in the
room.
"I know of Ertene from your own mind," said the creature. "These others
can not hear my mind. But I curse Ertene for the things she gave you;
they will make our battle difficult."
"It will make your fight impossible," said Maynard, catching the brief
flash of a hidden, fearsome thought in the Mephistan's mind. He turned
to Hamilton and said: "Set up a barrier about the system, and focus the
output of the screen on the center of Mephisto!"
The creature snarled audibly; it was the first sound ever heard that
was made by a Mephistan. He drove forward, shaking the officers' grip
from him as though the hold was nothing.
A darting tentacle lunged forward like a rapier; and like a rapier it
impaled Hamilton through the throat. Withdrawn, it flattened and swung
like a scimitar in and among the stunned officers.
They came to life and rushed the Mephistan. Crowding the creature
close. The stool upon which he had been sitting was lifted high
in another tentacle and it shattered to bits against the skull of
the tallest officer in the room. The other three grappled with the
Mephistan and bore him backward to the floor which may have seemed
desirable to the Terrans. It was also desirable to the Mephistan, too,
for it gave him a more solid basis for his slashing attack. He cut
through one officer's midsection entirely, crushed the skull of the
next against his own by driving that bullet head forward, and then
picked the last from the floor in his tentacles and dashed him across
the room against the wall. The body crunched, quivered, and fell to the
floor.
Maynard lifted the MacMillan and drilled the Mephistan again and again.
His eyes blazed with hatred for the alien creature, and his mouth
curled in utter distaste. The room filled with the stench of--burning
varnish!
"Naturally," came the thought, continuing as though nothing had
happened, "I could not come to such a fearsome temperature as you
maintain and hope to live. You seem to have destroyed my servant, but
we shall destroy you!"
* * * * *
When the aides came to clean up Guy's office, they found him inspecting
the little instrument that fitted head and waistline of the alien
creature. It was off, now, and partly disassembled upon the patrol
marshal's desk.
Williamson came at Maynard's call and raised an eyebrow at Maynard's
action.
"I had to do something," said Guy in a flat voice. "I couldn't just sit
here and contemplate those bodies."
"I know," said Ben softly. "Anything I can do?"
"Yes. Set up a barrier. Focus the screen's output on the center of
Mephisto. And then maintain that barrier for your life--and it will be
just that. It will be for your very life, for it will be against the
lives of all Mephistans!"
"Good!" glowed Williamson. "That'll do it!"
"It may take months," said Maynard. "But from now on we're fighting a
winning battle."
"What is that thing you're tinkering with?"
"A goldberg that was on the creature's body. Interesting thing, too.
Look, Ben, this thing may have been a robot, but their psychology is
such that they hate us completely. Issue orders that no more prisoners
are to be taken. Extermination is the only way; their strength is such
that three of them could wipe out a regiment. If we don't exterminate
them, they'll exterminate us, and they can do it if we permit them one
chance. We'll not give them that chance. Have the technicians figure
out the estimated temperature rise of Mephisto with a full screen and
full output directed at the center of the planet. I'd like to know when
this affair can be considered over."
"Check. I'll do it, Guy. What you need is a rest."
"I know. But there'll be no rest for any of us until this fight is
finished. Come on, Ben. Let's get moving. We've got a job to do."