"What terms can you hope for?" it demanded. "You attacked our ships. You indulged in destruction! How can you hope for terms?"
The Pretender scratched his ear thoughtfully. He regarded the radar screen with regret.
"We ask life for the people of our planet," he said steadily. He was annoyed that he had to speak for the tardy King of Kandar. "We ask that they not be punished for our resistance."
The young men in the control room looked astonished. Then they saw Bors's expression, and grinned.
A long pause. The boiling, shifting specks on the radar-screen began to have a definite order. The Mekinese voice, when it came, was triumphant and overbearing.
"We will spare your planet," it said contemptuously, "but not you. You have dared to fight us. Stand and be destroyed, and there will be no punishment for your world. There are no other terms."
The Pretender looked at Bors. He shrugged.
"Now what would the king do?" He looked puzzled.
"What can our dummy fleet do?" asked Bors.
The Pretender nodded. "We will offer no resistance," he said into the transmitter.