Negative.
"Surely not danger from me or Snow?"
Negative.
"From—from you Martians?" I choked, bewildered.
The head rocked from side to side.
"Danger.... Danger from sugarfeet?"
A very violent negative.
"But from Martians?" I queried, blinking.
A slow, positive nod.
"But there are no Martians but you sugarfeet. Unless—" An icy cold hand grabbed my adrenal glands and squeezed, hard. "The Ancients!" I gasped, in horror.