Kir-Um drew back and silently motioned Harl to look. Harl sucked in his breath, but dutifully bent forward to the door. Newt had just placed the bottle to his lips and Harl gasped with horror as he half-emptied it, with one, tremendous gulp. On Mars, such wanton waste of moisture would be punished with swift death, without benefit of trial. But this wasn't Mars: this was Earth, the planet of abundance.
Kir-Um plucked at Harl's sleeve. "Why do we cringe at the sight of this creature, Harl?" he whispered. "After all, it is no more repulsive than are these wretched bodies we have nobly assumed, for the glory of our race. We are great, Harl. Unselfishly, we have foregone the pleasures and conveniences of our magnificent physiques, so that our civilization might once again take its rightful place in the destiny of our System."
Harl's mind wistfully conjured a picture of his own, splendid body, with its bulbous head, sleek, furry torso and many sensitive tentacles, and he sighed heavily. "Yes, we are truly martyrs. My only regret is, I have but nine tentacles to give for my species."
The two ceased their council of self-glorification and stood "listening" to the thoughts of the Being inside. Their first impression was that the Earthman was insane, so the mad cogitations of his mind would indicate. Such random notions as: "Corner drugstore ... BEM ... Amphibious Android ... Trimmed edges ..." had no significance to them. But, quite suddenly, they picked up a thought that electrified their very beings and caused a quick glance of fear to pass between them. At the same time, it was a glance of elation, for here they had found what was probably Earth's most invulnerable armament. Intently, they concentrated on the astonishing thought unraveling in the creature's brain.
Newt had reached the next to the last paragraph of Joe Carson's letter and he was now reading it, with great enthusiasm. The hearty chuckles it gave Newt were lost on the Martians, for they did not know the meaning of humor. They understood only that here was the greatest force against which they would have to contend; the biggest obstacle in the path of the coming invasion; a barrier that would have to be battered down and made impotent.
"This is incredible, Harl," Kir-Um whispered in awe. "Imagine it—a weapon powerful enough to destroy all Earth! With such a thing, they could completely annihilate our invading forces."
"It causes me no little alarm," Harl agreed. "I can't conceive of such a fantastic weapon, but perhaps these Earthlings possess more intelligence than we give them credit for. Perhaps they have anticipated our invasion and have prepared for it."
"Harl," Kir-Um said with great solemnity, "I believe we are standing in a citadel of science. A place where great, new theories and devices are propounded and deliberated. And that creature in there is the guiding hand of this stronghold of knowledge. The letter he is reading was undoubtedly written by the highest intellect of this world. As you say, this genius may have foreseen our coming and moved to nullify it. Spurred on by desperation, he created this marvelous weapon and thought to surprise our onrushing, confident armies with an impregnable defense. Quite by chance, we have stumbled upon this dastardly plot, before it could be brought to bear."
"But what can we do?" Harl despaired. "The letter does not reveal the nature of this weapon. How can we combat something of which we know absolutely nothing? I am of the opinion we should abandon our conquest and die a slow, peaceful death on our own aging world."
Kir-Um deliberated this advice, the deciding factor being a vision of the Grand Councilor rising up in all his wrath and condemning the two who had brought the bad news.