"One—we kill these captives and prepare a surprise attack. Two—we condition our captives to return to the center of their civilization and report that they found no worlds worth possessing in this sector."
Vrausot reared erect in protest. "But eventually the conditioning will break! They will remember! And their race will then fashion an attack!"
"If we are to assume that they would attack in the first place," Mittich pointed out. "Our prisoners themselves aren't certain whether their race would or would not.
"Three—we could try instilling fear in them. Condition our captives to go back home and report a powerful, vast Tzarean Shoal culture. But that, I suspect, would only drive the aliens into a frantic arming effort. And, once a formidable striking potential is accumulated, use will be found for it—believe me.
"Four—we could let them return and tell the truth—that the Tzareans are a declining culture on its last tail, so to speak."
Again Chancellor Vrausot erupted in a series of violent hisses and clicks. "But that might only encourage them to attack!"
"Precisely. So the only course left is Number Five. That is to condition our prisoners to report indications of an interstellar culture in the Tzarean Shoal—nothing precise, nothing definite. Our prisoners will say they made no visual observations. We thus present the aliens with neither the temptation of our actual weakness, nor the fear of our pretended strength.
"At the same time we interrupt communications between them and the robots they have stationed in the system halfway between their center of civilization and ours. We shall hope they interpret that action as signifying we have discovered their automatons and desire to meet them in peace on that satellite.
"We shall go there prepared for friendly contact. If they come unarmed, we shall know there will be no fighting; that perhaps they will even provide the stimulus and inspiration for regeneration of the Tzarean culture. After all, it's a pretty big galaxy and there's plenty of room for two interstellar races."
"But," Vrausot hissed grimly, "what if they come armed?"