"What?" said Snow, losing the pedantic thread.
"He means, honey, that Baxter's not only got the knowhow to bump off this bunch, but the wherewithal and the urge."
"You Earthmen have a rather colorful succinctness of speech," the Martian observed.
Snow looked at me for help. "We what?"
I grinned at her despite our situation. "We talk purty," I interpreted. Then turning back to the Martian: "But if there cannot be physical contact between the races, why worry about Baxter? It seems to me that the worst he could do is snub you!"
"I'd better give you a bit more detail."
"Wait a minute." I held up a hand in protest. "If you tell me what Baxter knows then won't I be—"
"A threat to us? No. I do not intend to tell you the specific manner in which we can be destroyed, simply the nature of the destruction."
"All right. What?"
"You're aware, of course, of the geocentric theory of the universe?"