"And that's your job, Thompson," said Kennebec.
"And that's enough," responded Thompson. He wiped his face.
"Oh, I'll issue the proper orders. They'll receive them—and any trace of insubordination on the part of either of them will be cause for reprimand. Public reprimand."
"But the reason behind all this? I don't understand."
"Nor does anyone else. Look Thompson, the Little Man has a super ship out there on Mojave. It is a real bear-cat. Packed into space smaller than this office is enough stuff to hold off the Guard for a week. That's premise number one.
"Number two. They have some sort of telepathic means of communications.
"Number three. They came here for help. Why, I may never tell you until it's analyzed by the experts. But they came here for help. A machine, bomb, some means of hell and destruction or other must be destroyed. It must be located, too. Using some means of analysis on our card files, voice records, identification quizzes, and so forth, they decided upon Lane and Downing as the mainsprings. They'll have none other. Now why or wherefore isn't for me to decide. If they want Lane and Downing, they'll get Lane and Downing and none others. At the very least, we've got to play their game as long and as well as we can play it. I want to have the Solar Guard equipped as well as that ship is, and this is the way to do it."
"Why don't they go out and destroy this thing themselves?" asked Thompson.
"I wouldn't know. You know as much as I do."
"They may fear the cat race."