Carl said wearily, "It's a long story, sir. May I ask your present position?"
The Stellar Survey man's image grew a little in the plate as he leaned forward, as if to get a better look at Carl's face. He drew back. He said, "We are at present roughly twenty-two light-days distant, viewing you by instantaneous fifth-order reception."
"That's even better than ten billion miles, sir. If you stay where you are and keep your beam on, we can signal you when we get a billion miles from Worta. Then you can come forward and pick us up."
Before the officer could say what was starting on his lips, Carl banged his hand excitedly on the instrument board and shouted hysterically, "I'm warning you, sir. I'm warning you!"
The man looked unsettled. His glance wavered. "Very well, Wyant. It's a strange proceeding, but I trust you. We will expect you." The screen blanked.
Fifteen minutes later Carl landed the ship. He got up stiffly. Rex sat motionless, eyes turned straight ahead, unblinking, unseeing.
"I'm leaving you here until I get the Wortans," Carl told him. "Don't try anything silly."
Rex moved his head until his eyes rested on Carl's. He said quietly, "Carl, for your own good, don't bother. Do you think for a minute the Wortans are going to leave their planet at this stage of the game? They're done for anyway. You wouldn't expect a bunch of corpses to get out of their coffins and try a different coffin, would you? That's the way it is with the Wortans."
When Carl said nothing, Rex said, in that same quiet voice, "Carl, I know."
Carl turned uncertainly away, moved to the instrument board. His own voice sounded far away. "I'll convince them," he said. "I'll bring them back. They've got to come."