VI
Stabilizing itself once more in synchronous orbit, the immense Tzarean ship generated internal gravity and meted out isotonic saline solution to a number of tanks in crew's quarters.
In the central compartment it was a triumphant, impassioned Chancellor Vrausot who turned his massive hulk on Mittich and hissed-clicked, "There! I told you they had come unarmed! There was absolutely no response to the attack!"
Grim-faced, the Assemblyman only stared at him.
Vrausot paced, thumping his stout tail against the deck with each stride. It was a gesture that expressed anxiety.
"Don't you see what that means, Mittich? They knew we would be out here. They had independently corroborating evidence to that effect. Yet they came unarmed. They are a peaceful, naive, unsuspecting race of sitting uraphi!"
Very weakly, the Assemblyman reminded, "Our purpose, then, is to make amiable contact and determine—"
It was no use, though. The Chancellor wasn't listening. He had absolutely no sense of honor or ethical appreciation. But, Mittich reflected, that should have come as no surprise. It was to have been extrapolated from the Chancellor's political history. And now the distressing fact had to be faced: Vrausot was a megalomaniac.
The Chancellor drew proudly erect and his tail stiffened. "But we're not weak! Kavula—see that all gun crews stand by. We're going to finish them off now that we've established their inability to inflict damage on us."