“Maybe Buster will grow up again,” Lathrop suggested.
Elmer was in no mood for jokes. “You have the weapon,” he went on, “but that is worthless against me. With Buster gone, you have cheated yourself out of a quick death in case you refuse to have your memories replaced. But that is inconsequential, too. I can let you starve.”
“What a happy soul you are!” said Carter, dryly.
“I suppose I should say I regret the situation,” Elmer said. “But I don’t. You must understand I can’t let you go, In order that the Martian plan may go on, the knowledge you hold must never reach your race. For once your race knew the Martians were alive, they would find a way to ferret them out.”
“And,” suggested Lathrop, “the Evil Beings must continue to be something mystic, something not quite real, something for fools to believe in.”
Elmer was frank. “That is right. For if your people knew the truth they would take direct action. And that would be wrong. One cannot fight the Evil Ones, one can only hide.”
“How are you so sure?” snapped Carter.
“The Martians,” said Elmer, solemnly, “exhausted every other possibility. They proved there could be no other way.”
Lathrop chuckled in his corner. “There is one thing you have forgotten, Elmer.”
“What is that?”