"What's that thing?" The tall man, struggling with the buckles of his breathing equipment, glanced at the object in Devere's hands. It looked like badly corroded bronze, and consisted of a long tube with a large bulb at one end.
"This? Oh, this is some kind of a tool I found. I think it was a digging tool, used for breaking up rocks. They did build canals, you know.... As I was saying, they knew about explosives. This tool, for instance. It worked by means of a small, shaped charge inside this bulb here. The explosion was so well-focused that there was almost no recoil. A high-energy shock wave was emitted from the barrel—very effective at short range. But the most amazing thing about this tool is that the chemical explosive is still potent after lying underground for nearly a million years....
"Oh, by the way. There's nothing wrong with your sandcat's battery. It was the motor I sabotaged."
Then Martin Devere pointed the ancient digging tool at the tall man and blew him into two neat pieces.
The Hermit of Mars never did get around to walking out to the space ship and using his visitor's radio to tell Earth what had happened. He really intended to, but he forgot. The ultimatum that was delivered to the United Governments failed, of course, but no one knew exactly why until the next Earth-Mars conjunction.
The United Governments was prevailed on by the World Television Service to send out someone to interview the Hermit, if he were still alive.
That interview was unfortunate. It might have established Martin Devere as the world hero that he was, and he might have been awarded some kind of medal. As it went, his rude and insulting answers to the young man's questions made him unpopular for years.
His last answer in the interview was the worst. The young man, already sweating, looked in desperation at the green crystal vase that Martin Devere insisted on holding in front of the television lens. (Back at the Institute, a dozen faces were flushing red with indignation as their owners realized what the old man had been holding back.)
"Tell me, Dr. Devere," the young man asked. "You seem—er—a very modest man. Doesn't it make you the least bit proud to know that you've saved the world?"