"But their superior mental powers could still be dangerous to any future colonization," argued the Commander. "How do we know they won't try it again?"
"We don't," Boyette said. "Unless we convince them that we intend no harm either to them or their planet."
Commander Kellews seized this eagerly. "But how could we ever believe them if they did agree? And what assurance have we that they'll even consider cooperating? They're tricky little devils."
"I've thought that out too," Boyette said. "It all came about as a result of my examination of the one I had in here. The animals are scrupulously clean—perhaps you noticed that?"
The Commander frowned briefly, then nodded in assent.
"Also," Boyette continued, "to control effectively a human's mind they require full concentration on the task. What I propose is the importation of common fleas from Earth. Judging by the complete absence of other forms of life I believe the lowly and ever-busy flea will be something entirely new in their life."
He grinned. "Gentlemen, have you ever watched a mongrel dog industriously rooting a flea from his hide? I believe you'll agree an alien would require quite a bit of willpower for these friendly little fellows to forget all about them."
"Well, it might just conceivably work," the Commander reluctantly agreed.
"I'd be willing to wager it would," insisted Boyette. "In addition it would leave our reputation intact. For full cooperation we could even distribute limited amounts of flea-powder. Enough so that they could remain comfortable but not enough that—in the event it should be cut off—their lives would become one long itching misery."
The old Exec chuckled. "Boy!" he roared, "You've got something. I've won a lot of battles in my life but this tops them all. This is the first time my side ever managed to win a major victory because the enemy went to the dogs!"