Edith Ward blazed. "Progress! Progress! Is destruction progress? Well, if the ultimate goal of mankind is to go out in a blazing holocaust of his own making, then this is true progress. One proper step toward the final Gotterdammerung!"
The committeeman smiled at her tolerantly. "Twilight of the Gods, Miss Ward? Oh come now, we aren't gods and I daresay that the universe will continue to function without man's aid and abetment."
Edith Ward snorted through her patrician nose. "Correct," she snapped. "But after we leave, who's here to care?"
Dr. Edith Ward was surprised by his arrival at the Solar Space Laboratory. She didn't expect him. He had won his battle, and she knew he was not the kind of man to gloat over a defeated enemy. Therefore she reasoned that she might never see him again for certainly she would not go to his place to see him—and eventually the whole system would go up, triggered by the untrained hand of Thomas Barden.
Then to have him call—it bothered her. Why—?
He entered, carrying a small olive branch, and he smiled boyishly as he handed it to her with a small bow.
"A truce," he suggested.
"There can be no truce," she said stonily. "It will either be you or me that is shown right."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," he said with a smile. "Look, Miss Ward, I've never disregarded the possibility that you might be correct. All I've wanted was a chance to prove it instead of merely writing it off on the grounds of possible danger. One never knows what will happen until one tries. Therefore I wanted to continue. I've completed the ship and it is awaiting a trial. Any time we're ready."