"Right. I think we owe my friends a debt of gratitude."
"I'll agree to that. But for this test, we'll ramble until we find a relatively unimportant star with only one or two planets, devoid of life. Then we'll try it."
"But even with dead system, you're taking a lot upon yourself."
"How?"
"There will, from that time on, be a monument to the memory of Thomas Barden. You'll be the object of argument and of both admiration and hatred. Flag-wavers will either point with pride or view with alarm, depending upon their politics. Why not wait until the thing is discussed?"
"Forever? No, Edith. None of us can afford it. We must know. If this works, Sol has a rather dangerous weapon against any possible conquesting races in the galaxy. Regardless of what has gone before, Sol is in a position to go out and make her mark upon the galaxy. It is best to go prepared, and if we fear nothing, we neither need fear subjugation."
"But destroying a stellar system—"
"Who'll miss it?" he asked.
She looked blank. "I don't know," she said. "It just seems so big. It doesn't seem right that one man should be able to go out and destroy a stellar system. One that has been stable for million upon million of years. Superstition, perhaps," she said thoughtfully. "I'm not a religious woman, Tom. I am not sacrilegious, either. Somehow, somewhere, there must be a God—"
"Who made the universe. With a density of ten to the minus twenty-eighth power and an average temperature of matter about twenty million degrees? For the benefit of Terrans. Well if so, Edith, He is willing to see one of His experiments used to further mankind in his struggle. Ad astra per aspera, my dear!"