"Filled with people of the same ilk," returned Barden, unimpressed.
"But even warfare must not be annihilation," objected the alien. "For of what value is a dead enemy?"
"They are no longer any bother." Barden grunted. "We dislike being bothered, and our will happens to be that we want to go wherever we choose at any time we please. A favorable attitude upon the part of any other culture is one that permits us our will. A dead culture will never obstruct us, for one thing. It will never revert to its original attitude of belligerency, for the second thing. And for the third thing, alien, with the interstellar drive we have, we can find those cultures in the galaxy which see exactly as we do, therefore it is to our advantage to eliminate any malcontents right now."
"But what do you intend to do?" demanded the creature.
"My system has been the tool of some other culture. The purpose is not clear, though the outcome might have been quite disastrous. I intend to find both that culture and their reasons and extract full payment!"
"But how—?"
Barden smiled in a hard manner. "I intend to plant one of these unprotected space motors on one of your planets," he said. "That is for my own protection. Then we'll collect one of the enemy, and do likewise with his system. Then you and he will have your little talk—and you'll first call off this war or you'll both be enjoying novas in your own backyards. It's about time that people learned how to get along with one another!"
"But I have little authority."
"I have," smiled Barden in a completely self-satisfied manner. "I have all the authority necessary to demand that your superiors and your scientists meet their contemporaries of your enemy—and peacefully."
"What are you going to do with me?"