"But I—" Johnny's thoughts raced. The ship, gone. And Harrison and Janes, Lamson, and Fowler. They would be landing in a few days. They—
"Yes," the thoughts of the true Martians before him answered. "And they will be given a 'gift' for Terra as you were. If your friends return successfully to your planet with that 'gift'—then—"
The thought was not completed. But it did not have to be.
A beachhead was one thing. These scattered, struggling people who had once been masters of Mars might one day unseat it, for they were not yet beaten people, and their will to survive was yet strong. But beyond that—
Earth taken, the System taken.
There it was.
There was a sudden coldness inside him now that the fact had crystallized, had become real. Here was no fantasy; no wild surmise.
They left him in silence while he thought, their psibeam turned away, now.
Harrison and Janes. Lamson, and Fowler. Had to stop them. Stop them, and then somehow, get home. He ached for home.
He thought about Ferris, who had given his life for this thing.