"Holy Gods in Their Celestial Quarters," said Montresig. "Did you hear that? Is there any question in your mind now about the size and ferocity of these people?"
"Considerable," said the Commander. "That computer has made mistakes before, witness that last planet. Those were supposed to be garden snails, those slugs that gave us such a walloping. I don't think we get the right information through to it."
"But Your Loftiness," wailed Montresig, "everything adds up, you can see for yourself ... their giant cities, their warring on each other, the information the computer gave us ... it isn't safe to land on that planet."
"No, I suppose not," sighed the Commander. "But do you realize the implications? Here we have a highly advanced race just ready to take off into space ... and according to our information they are savage war-making giants. If I bring that news back our Supreme Goodness is apt to issue orders to evacuate several hundred planets and move to some other galaxy—Let's try the dredge once more."
Commander signaled the dredge operator and waited a reasonable length of time before he was informed that something was wrong with it and that it would be some time before repairs could be made.
"I give up," said Commander Losure. "I have orders not to land on a questionable planet and I've learned my lesson. Either that computer has a few loose connections or those people are broadcasting pure nonsense. I just don't believe in giants, much less in scientific ones. Get ready to leave, Montresig, and see that you make an accurate written report of this whole situation."
"What do we do with the animal, Your Loftiness?"
"The dredge is busted, so what do you think we can do with it? Heave it out the airlock. It can stay here on the moon until the first explorers come up from the planet, which won't be long, and they can have rabbit stew."
The great ship lifted from the dark moonscape, leaving behind the frozen form of the first earth being to have crossed space, a surprise for the crew of the first manned moon rocket, if not the makings of rabbit stew.
Somewhere, a million miles beyond the sun, the ship accelerated rapidly. The Commander looked up from his desk as Montresig entered smartly with a precision burp.