"We'll win, never fear," said Billy. "But we'll win only if we play it properly."
"And properly means to fight with every weapon that we have."
"Spore bombs?"
"That's but one thing."
"They'll help—only to make the other trillion Loard-vogh mad. Douse a few planets and thousands of others will muster."
Billy Thompson thought for a moment and then answered: "Really, it makes little difference how we fight. We'll win anyway. Go ahead and build your gadgets."
He left, and Hotang Lu nodded. "I pray there is time left. Time to build smaller ones, too, that will fit the ships of the Solar Guard. Time to manufacture the necessary fighting equipment. Time to ... ah, always we are fighting time. I curse the lack of time."
And then the Tlemban added: "I am mystified. In my cosmos, if a secret weapon is worthy of use, it is worthy of use from the time it is discovered. I am puzzled—but then, I do not understand your secret weapon. It sounds foolish to me."
Kennebec spent the next three hours trying to make the Tlemban understand, and finally gave up.