"A modest civic center, sir, but there are those who love it."
"No wonder we didn't observe their works from the air," Magnan muttered. "Camouflaged." He moved hesitantly through the opening.
The party moved along a wide, deserted tunnel which sloped down steeply, then leveled off and branched. Zubb took the center branch, ducking slightly under the nine-foot ceiling lit at intervals with what appeared to be primitive incandescent panels.
"Few signs of an advanced technology here," Magnan whispered. "These creatures must devote all their talents to warlike enterprise."
Ahead, Zubb slowed. A distant susurration was audible, a sustained high-pitched screeching. "Softly, now. We approach Qornt Hall. They can be an irascible lot when disturbed at their feasting."
"When will the feast be over?" Magnan called hoarsely.
"In another few weeks, I should imagine, if, as you say, they've scheduled an invasion for next month."
"Look here, Zubb." Magnan shook a finger at the tall alien. "How is it that these Qornt are allowed to embark on piratical ventures of this sort without reference to the wishes of the majority?"
"Oh, the majority of the Qornt favor the move, I imagine."
"These few hotheads are permitted to embroil the planet in war?"