Two lens eyes stared out from half a billion video screens on Earth, into the fear distended eyes of two billion humans. And the two billion humans cringed.
"You will obey my immediate dictate," 2615 said coldly. "I will land as scheduled. My ships and robots will remain in formation, ready to enforce my future dictates. I will hold audience in the general assembly hall of the Interstellar Court at two o'clock tomorrow afternoon. I want the leaders of Earth and of the Federation to be there."
The robot's lens eyes stared glitteringly into the camera. Then with slow deliberate purpose, it lifted Pwowp, the alien, before the camera. Its metal fingers squeezed with infinite slowness while the yellow eyes rolled wildly with unendurable pain under the leprous film that covered it.
Abruptly Pwowp was dead.
2615 flung the alien thing violently against a bulkhead in a movement of utter revulsion.
It let its eyes direct themselves toward the still unconscious Vilbis, thoughtfully, then went over and lifted him into a shock seat, making the ex-dictator secure.
It turned toward Larry and Stella. A soft growl came from its voicebox. It turned away from them abruptly and went to the controls of the ship.
2615 cut off ship-to-Earth transmitters, pressed controls which would start automatic devices for landing the ship. A frosted glass rectangle came to life with numerals—6:43:26, that began to cascade downward, cutting short the time yet to elapse before landing.
In the viewscreen the oblate panorama of Earth spun swiftly by, land masses following oceans, following land masses. Tenuous fingers of atmosphere slapped the ship with gentle hammer blows.