"Tender and very, very rare."
Hotang Lu shivered again.
"Why?"
"What makes a steak tender?" he asked with an air of innocence.
"Brutally speaking, it is a matter of semiputrefication."
"Precisely. You hang it in a warm, smoky, damp place until it 'grows hair'. Then you partially cook it—not really enough to destroy the enzymes—and smother it with one of the most pernicious forms of fungi. It is served hot—a condition that enhances most chemical reactions. And you fall to, eating this deadly mixture with appetite, relish, appreciation, and, by the most holy, you complain bitterly if the tenderness is not right. You object if the micro-organisms have not had their chance to break down the toughness of the meat. About the only disease that Terrans really need fear is the ulcer, which is a case of the adaptable beginning to eat itself, or perhaps carcinoma, where local mutation takes place."
"That makes us feel very good," said Kennebec dryly. "But from what you've told us, we are on the brink of invasion by a super-race that is slowly engulfing the Galaxy."
"The Loard-vogh must be defeated."
"I should think so," remarked Kennebec.
"Our work is through," said Hotang Lu. "Tlembo is surpassed. Sscantoo was one hope of Tlembo, but the catmen are almost at the peak of their evolution, and cannot be increased in mental stature more than twice or thrice. Tlembo reached their mental ultimate ten thousand years ago and were far surpassed by the Loard-vogh. Terra now surpasses the Loard-vogh. But remember, Co-ordinator Kennebec, you have mental ability not real mentality. You have the capability to increase a thousandfold above your present mental stature. But you have not increased in fact."