"I said suicide expedition—I meant just that. A single cruiser, armed by the combined science of all planets. Let Venus provide Vulcanite, because it's invulnerable; the atomic engines supplied by Terra—those are details. Every Ethero-Magnum Station between the inner and outer planets to be constantly on the alert—as far as Neptune!" His narrowed eyes swept them briefly, noting the instant negative reaction from the Venusian at the mention of Vulcanite. Suspicion lingered. Doubts rooted on a million incidents of the past—intrigues so involved as to drive a mind mad. Injustices. The last fratricidal war that had set their Universe aflame.
The stately Martian had recovered his aplomb; the wisp of handkerchief he pressed to his nostrils as he eyed the inert creature asprawl on the table diffused a breath of fragrance, cool as a mountain breeze. He gestured toward it fastidiously, his violet eyes inscrutable.
"That ... homunculi, or android ... nothing mysterious about it. Superb biosynthesis, I grant you, but Terra could produce it!" The last words were like a stab.
"And so could Mars," the Venusian said wearily in instant contradiction. "The point it, what could anyone of us hope to gain by war?" The word was out at last. The chill atmosphere of horror the appearance of the homunculi had inspired, became icy, seemed to seep like the breath of death through the lofty Hall. In the silent pause their faces were like masks as the tiny Venusian eyed them with a sardonic glance. "Power, perhaps?" He continued. "No one planet wears the crown of empire—no one ever will as long as Venus holds Vulcan!" He said it softly, but with a Universe of power in his voice.
The sloe-eyed Amazon from Mercury stirred uneasily, and the Neptunian delegate seemed uncertain as to the next move. In silence, Bill Nardon waited patiently.
A swift glance of intelligence flashed between the rangy Europan Earthman and his inseparable Panadur companion. And then the latter rose. He held up a silver-furred arm perfectly moulded, and gestured with his oddly human but thumbless hand.
"This being could have easily traveled by spacer from whence it came—as easily as we did!" The Panadur telepathed. "A small ship would be practically indetectable; besides, in view of our coming, even if seen it would have been taken for one of our ships. It occurs to me that this being may not have been created by another race, but is in itself the very danger we have to face!"
"No!" Bill Nardon exclaimed with utter conviction. "I caught it exploring my mind. In the instant that I contacted his, I knew it was not independent ... it was directed. Three things only have I been unable to solve: It brought no weapons save its own murderous powers; it was purposely directed at me as if to destroy the only 'Correlating' mind in our League. And, most mysterious of all—in death, an ineffable sadness overlays its features, where the expression of bestial lust to kill should have been frozen in death." As Bill finished, the Martian delegate stood up:
"I suppose my Government would be willing to release the Multi-Energon Screen for this expedition—retaining its secret, of course—provided," he flared, "provided Venus releases the necessary Vulcanite for the hull!" They glared at each other from both sides of the Council Table in ominous silence.