Under the emotional situation, Zingar's accent was more pronounced but intelligible, "Every word we speak is amplified by their distance receivers. A race that can faintly hear train whistles on earth, and can see the surface of your planet as if with a large telescope from the moon, doesn't have much trouble to know what our situation is. But we have one bargaining point. Old Senegar was in that first ship, and his intelligence is in ratio to that of the other Martians as one hundred to one. They would concede almost anything to preserve his safety."
"But how can we bargain, since we have no way to escape the planet?" asked John.
"We might hold the old man as a permanent hostage until the time when Mars is in proximity to Earth again, a year from next August, and the colony supply ship comes," suggested Mark Hemingway.
"The old man wouldn't live that long," said Zingar quietly. "This atmosphere would be fatal to him—Let me talk to my father."
"Your father!" cried Mary. Quickly adjusting the headphone of the Mind Sounder she poured out her unconscious sympathy to her lover's receiving mind. He drew her to him gently, and then turned and faced the others, still holding her.
"Let me talk to him," he said, "I think I have an idea."
The group walked hurriedly behind Zingar and Dr. Henderson toward the field hospital area.
There was a silent drama of sympathy in the expression of these two Martians, as Zingar stood near his father's hospital cot. They spoke rapidly but quietly in their own language.
"What's he sayin'?" growled Jake. "Can we trust the young squirt?"
"I don't understand," said John. "I only know a few of their words. But they keep repeating one word which means 'cripples,' or 'sick'."