"There must be. Terra seemed a best bet. Yet perhaps their survival factor was so great that they prefer slavery to extermination. Is that rational?"
Hotang Lu nodded dumbly.
"We have Sscantoo."
"But they are almost at the pinnacle of their culture," objected the emissary. "We cannot energize their minds."
"Agreed. But they are an ungregarious race. They cling together only because civilization demands tribe-protection. They are fierce fighters. They hate every alien being. They dislike even contact between themselves, yet prefer that to traffic with an alien culture. Go to Sscantoo, Hotang Lu, and convince Linzete that his race is in danger of slavery at the hands of the Loard-vogh. Tell him, if he does not know already, that the Loard-vogh have conquered Terra. Perhaps Linzete knows what Terra's secret weapon is. Was it ever disclosed?"
"The end came too soon. It was never used. Nor—and I cannot understand—did I see anything of its manufacture."
"Linzete has most of Terra's secrets by mutual agreement. Perhaps he has also that secret."
"Again I fight time," growled Hotang Lu. "Time—and I feel, the inevitable."
"I'd suggest a consultation with Norvan Ge, the psychiatrist. He will enable you to conquer that defeatist attitude of yours."
"I shall see him," said Hotang Lu. "I admit that the shock of being plunged all the way from almost-certain victory to utter defeat in a few short minutes has shaken my faith in even myself. I shall see him. Then I shall go to Sscantoo."