Vorgan blinked. "They—?"
"I have failed. I have been trying to find another one to control. Those who may be controlled were in no political position to do any good—I found several others."
Vorgan nodded. "Time was short."
"I did not locate one controllable among those who might have done some good. And now I never will. The Extremes have joined!"
"And the shock wave?"
"Has undone all the good our suppressor did for twenty thousand years."
"Order the attack."
"Yes, Lord of All. The logisticians indicate a short period of mobilization and preparation. The Enilode Sector is being stripped of our men—they're not too hard to handle now—and a tenth of the men in all other sectors not actively fighting are being sent to the spearhead sector. I hate time. It takes so much of it to handle thirty million men and the supplies necessary for their support."
"That," grumbled Vorgan, "and the inoculations. A man undergoing them is a sick Loard-vogh for a week."
"Our initial attack may be some time in coming. But it will be complete, throughout that entire sector. We'll destroy the menace immediately, and from then on, all we'll have to do is to hold that sector against any possible enemy."