“By this one ship?”
“Unassisted.”
Mr. Kiku shook his head. “Doctor, I am sure that you are convinced of what you say. I am not. The extent and thoroughness of the defenses of this, the leading planet of the Federation, cannot possibly be known to you. But should they be so foolish they will learn that we have teeth.”
Ftaeml looked sorrowful. “In all the many tongues of civilization I find no words to convince you. But belive me. . . anything that you could do against them would be as futile as throwing stones at one of your modern warships.”
“We shall see. Or, fortunately, we shall not see. I do not like weapons, Doctor; they are the last resort of faulty diplomacy. Have you spoken to them of the willingness of the Federation to accept them into the Community of Civilizations?”
“I have had grave difficulty in explaining to them the nature of your offer.”
“Are they, then, so hopelessly warlike?”
“They are not warlike at all. How can I put it? Are you warlike when you smash. . . strike. . . swat. . . yes, swat a fly? The Hroshii are practically immortal by your standards, and even by mine. They are so nearly invulnerable to all ordinary hazards that they tend to look down. . . how is your idiom? . . . ‘Olympian’. they look down on us from Olympian heights. They cannot see any purpose in relations with lesser races; therefore your proposal was not taken seriously, though, believe me, I put it.”
“They sound stupid,” Kiku answered sourly.
“Not true, sir. They evaluate your race and mine most exactly. They know that any culture possessing star travel has at least some minor skill in the physical arts. They know therefore that you will regard yourselves as powerful. For that reason they are even now contemplating a display of force, to convince you that you must forthwith deliver up their Hroshia. . . they think of this as being like a goad to a draft animal, a sign which he will be able to understand.”
“Hmm. . . You know the nature of this demonstration?”
“I do. My trip this morning to their ship is to persuade them to wait They intend to touch lightly the face of your satellite, leave on it an incandescent mark perhaps a thousand miles long, to convince you that they uh. . . ‘ain’t foolin’.”
“I am not impressed. We could order a force of ships and make such a sign ourselves. Not that we would.”
“Could you do it with one ship, in a matter of seconds, without fuss, from a distance of a quarter million miles?”
“You think they could?”
“I am sure of it, A minor demonstration. Mr. Under Secretary, there are novae in their part of the sky which were not accidents of nature.”
Mr. Kiku hesitated. If it all were true, then such a demonstration might serve his own needs by causing the Hroshul to show their hand. The loss of a few worthless lunar mountains would not matter. . . but it would be difficult to evacuate such an area of even the few who might be in it. “Have you told them that our Moon is inhabited?”
It is not mhabited by their Hroshia, which is all that matters to them.”
“Hmm. . . I suppose so. Doctor, could you suggest to them, first, that you may be about to find their Hroshia, and second, that their Hroshia may be somewhere on our satellite, which is why the search has taken so long?”
The Rargyllian simulated a wide human grin. “Sir, I salute you. I shall be happy to convey such a suggestion. I am sure there will be no demonstration of force.”
“Good health, Doctor. I’ll be in touch with you.”
“Your good health, sir.”
On his way back Mr. Kiku realized that he had felt not a single twinge in the presence of the medusoid why, the blighter was rather likable, in a horrid way. Dr. Morgan was certainly an adroit hypnotherapist.
His work basket was choked as usual; he put the Hroshii out of mind and worked happily. Late that afternoon communications informed him that they were hoding a circuit for Mr. Greenberg. “Put him on,” Mr. Kiku said, feeling that at last the pieces were falling into place.