Fred heard noise in the corridor outside. There could be only one reason why they'd come—New Earth would prevent his action by killing him.
Desperate now, Fred tried once more. "Earth, die if you must! Die for the 46 other populations that died for you. Your life is almost over; ours has just begun. You owe us something. We battled our way up from nothingness; you held us back. Because of you, we hated one another. Fought. Killed. We could have been creating—"
The door burst open. Four things, lacking any semblance of reason, advanced on him.
Now you'll stop! The new planet's voice was vibrant, confident.
"Earth! Give us back our lives—"
Fred went down under the rush of Charlesworth and Lodgesen. Fingernails—what used to be feminine—tore at his face. A foot crashed into his ribs. Then, as fast as it had begun, the torment stopped.
He raised his head, saw the two screens. In view aft, the intruder planet was barely visible; Earth definitely seen in view forward. Neither changed appearance, but Fred's four companions, held in stasis, were an indication. A cosmic battle raged, an impossible mental battle: age versus youth, weakness versus strength, experience versus inexperience.
Suddenly, the four came at him again. He hadn't the power to resist. What was the use? We've lost again; shall we lose always?
No ... you've won ... use the gift wisely. As the voice faded out, the view-aft screen flared brilliantly with sudden energy released from a destroyed planet.