"It is not an entity, fool, but a fusion," came curt reprimand. "We decided that point long ago."
"An entity, I say!" In his urgency the operator committed the unpardonable by omitting the titles of address. "No possible fusion can attain such perfection of timing, of synchronization. Our best fusions have attempted to match it, and have failed. Its screens are impenetrable. Its thrusts cannot be blocked. My message is this: Solve for us, and quickly, the problem of this entity. If you do not or cannot do so, we perish all of us, even to you of the Innermost Circle."
"Think you so?" The thought was a sneer. "If your fusions cannot match those of the Arisians you should die, and the loss will be small."
The fifth screen went down. For the first time in untold ages the planet of Eddore lay bare to the Arisian mind. There were inner defenses, of course, but Kit knew every one; their strengths and their weaknesses. He had long since spread in Mentor's mind an exact and completely detailed chart; they had long since drawn up a completely detailed plan of campaign. Nevertheless, Kit could not keep from advising Mentor:
"Pick off any who may try to get away. Start on Area B and work up. Be sure, though, to lay off of Area K or you'll get your beard singed off."
"The plan is being followed," Mentor assured him. "Children, you have done very well indeed. Rest now, and recuperate your powers against that which is yet to come."
"QX. Unlace yourselves, kids. Loosen up. Unlax. I'll break out a few beakers of fayalin, and all of us—you especially, Con—had better eat ten or fifteen of these candy bars."
"Eat! Why, I couldn't—" Kit insisted, and Constance took an experimental bite. "But say, I am hungry, at that!"
"Of course you are. We've been putting out some stuff, and there's more and worse coming. Now rest, all of you."