"Still, he seemed lonesome for company," Cecil put in. "He was very nice to us when we came here. It was only by chance that we found him, you know. We were out this way looking for a hideout ... we thought we ought to have one since all the other spies did ... anyway, we got lost and stopped here. Mr. Adams took us in just like we were old friends. I guess he wanted someone to show his inventions to. Maybe we really shouldn't have pulled the switch on the old man that way, but he kept saying he needed to get away somewhere...."
"The only decent thing to do, really," Toffee murmured.
"Exactly," Cecil said. "At first ... after Mr. Adams left ... Gerald and I toyed around with the idea of making mankind useless, but we decided that mankind would probably enjoy it too much, and things are moving in that direction fast enough anyway. But we always knew this stuff would come in handy someday if we just waited." He turned to Marc. "And now you've come along with your bomb."
"May God forgive me," Marc said bitterly.
Cecil pointed to another catapult arrangement, smaller than the one which had launched Mr. Adams into regions unknown to men, and aimed considerably lower.
"We'll send the bomb out with that," he said. "That was Mr. Adams' first experiment with the catapult. It will direct a missile accurately anywhere in the world. In fact, at full strength, it can throw a two-ton weight around the world three times. Non-stop."
"A two-ton weight of what?" Toffee asked.
"How should I know?" Cecil asked. "What difference does it make?"
"All the difference," Toffee said emphatically. "It would be perfectly preposterous for anyone to want to go flinging a two-ton weight around the world three times." She paused. "Unless, of course, it was a two-ton weight of something you hated so much you wanted to see it going away from you three times."