“You son of a gun,” grunted Tommy, “it’s all in the day’s work to you, fighting an invading fleet!”
A messenger came panting through the doorway. Tommy grinned.
“The Council wants us, Evelyn. Now maybe they’ll listen.”
The atmosphere of the resumed Council meeting was, as a matter of fact, considerably changed. The white-bearded Keeper of Foodstuffs thanked them with dignity. He invited Tommy to offer advice, since his services had proved so useful.
“Advice?” said Tommy, in the halting, fumbling phrases he had slaved to acquire. “I would put the prisoners from Rahn to work at the machines, releasing citizens.” There was a buzz of approval, and he added drily in English: “I’m playing politics, Evelyn.” Again in the speech of Yugna he added: “And I would have the fleet of Yugna soar above Rahn, not to demand tribute as that city did, but to disable all its aircraft, so that such piracy as to-day may not be tried again!” There was a second buzz of approval. “And third,” said Tommy earnestly, “I would communicate with Earth, rather than assassinate it. I would require the science of Earth for the benefit of this world, rather than use the science of this world to annihilate that! I—”
For the second time the Council meeting was interrupted. An armed messenger came pounding into the room. He reported swiftly. Tommy grasped Evelyn’s wrist in what was almost a painful grip.
“Noises in the Tube!” he told her sharply. “Earth-folk doing something in the Tube Jacaro came through. Your father….”
There was an alert silence in the Council hall. The white-bearded old man had listened to the messenger. Now he asked a grim question of Tommy.
“They may be my friends, or your enemies,” said Tommy briefly. “Mass thermit-throwers and let me find out!”