"For that I am sorry," the Eglan said. "You fought well and deserved a better end. However, you still have won. It is finished." The Eglan smiled bitterly. "You see, Commander, we never knew that war could be such horror. To many of my crew it was too horrible. You undoubtedly saw some of them on your way here."
Fiske nodded. "Now about the surrender terms—" he began.
"There are no terms," the alien said woodenly. "You have won." His face twitched. "Can't you appreciate what your weapon has done? I am an Eglan. An Eglan never surrenders. Yet I and half my crew have surrendered. Don't you appreciate the implications of that? Can't you realize that the Directorate is doomed—that you have won a victory here that is more complete than any we have won in a thousand years of war?"
"But—"
"From birth," the Eglan went on, ignoring the abortive interruption, "we of the warrior caste have been trained to believe that there is no glory other than in battle—that the honor of the Directorate and its supremacy is paramount—that the Directorate must expand to bring the blessings of order to the less favored—that the orders of a superior are to be obeyed unquestioningly—that it is only right that we subordinate ourselves to the greater glory of the Eglan race—that our minds and lives are dedicated to this service—that there is no higher honor, no greater glory than to die for the Eglani." He sounded as though he was reciting a litany that had suddenly become no longer believable.
"But this, I find, is wrong. Such a belief is not life. It is death—extinction first of the soul, then of the mind, and finally of the body. Your weapon struck us here at the core of our belief and through our weakest link—a link we had to keep because, paradoxically, it was also the source of our strength and unity. Through our neurocommunicators your feelings, emotions, and beliefs waged battle with our own. And yours won because their truth was more basic and more just than our own. And so we were disarmed. We were confused. We could not hold control. And finally we could not kill—not even ourselves!" The muscle in his cheek twitched again.
Fiske drew a deep breath. With sudden understanding he recalled his own feelings when he had heard Ellen on that tape. But there must have been more than Ellen—much more. All those others—and somehow the Eglani had sensed the true meaning behind that nauseous gabble! And the meaning had destroyed them!
Of course, this single action wasn't the end of the war, but it was the beginning of the end. The war would go on, but now it wouldn't be humanity with its back against the wall. The Eglani, too, would know the meaning of defeat. Fiske sighed. Somehow he couldn't help feeling sorry for them. They were too understanding!
"Thank you," Sar Lauton said unexpectedly. "Your sympathy is appreciated."