Bbulas was turning paler and paler as he whirled. "All your fault," he gasped hoarsely to Skkiru. "All your fault!"
And that was true, Skkiru realized. His antennae quivered, but he didn't even try to restrain them. He had meant well, yet he had messed up the planet's affairs far more seriously than Bbulas had. He had ruined their hopes, killed all their chances by his carelessness. He, Skkiru, instead of being his planet's savior, was its spoiler. He psonked violently.
But Larhgan moved nearer to him. "It's all over, anyhow," she whispered, "and you know what? I'm glad. I'm glad we failed. I'd rather starve as myself than succeed as a sham."
Skkiru controlled himself. Silently, he took the grimpatch out of his carrier and, as silently, she took it back.
"My faith, they must have had plumbing all the time!" Raoul complained.
"Very likely," said Cyril sternly. "Looks as if we've suffered for nothing."
"Such people!" Raoul said. "True primitives, I am sure, would never have behaved so unfeelingly!"
Cyril smiled, but his face was hard as he turned back to the Snaddrath. "We'll radio Gambrell in the morning to have a ship dispatched to pick us up. I'm not sure but that we have a good case for fraud against you."
"We're destroyed!" Bbulas shrieked as the full emotional impact of the situation hit him. "An interplanetary lawsuit would ruin Snaddra entirely."
His cries were echoed in the howls of the other Snaddrath, their antennae psonking, their eyes bulging.