Relez stroked his beard. "That might make trouble."
The girl turned on him, electric fire in her look. "None of your business!"
Relez smiled. "On the other hand, maybe it will be for the best—a step forward in contact between the peoples."
Torcred felt a new strength and confidence born of Ladna's loyalty. He said, "Your scheme is good, if it will work. I will—we will help you make it work."
The older man's face lit. "Good!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. "You already have some sound ideas. I suggest—"
"Captain!" broke in a low, taut voice. "What do you make of this?"
Relez wheeled. The young technician who had been operating the controls of the televiewer was pointing at the screen in horror.
The scene was a sweep of desert, silvered by the risen moon. There were indistinct dark shapes that might be a tribe of dragons, stalled, of course. But around and among them red flashes leaped and black towers of smoke sprang up to drift down the quiet night wind.
It was a scene of death and destruction whose silence made it unreal. But as the five people in the rock chamber held their breath, they heard and felt, telegraphed from far away through the ground, the dull heavy concussions of exploding bombs.
"Scan the sky, Rhenu," gulped the captain.