"I have noted it," Deering said. "We spoke, a while ago, of surface manifestations."
"We shall continue to. You have witnessed the mechanical excellence of their machines, in some ways beyond ours, because of their greater element wealth. You have noted the increased concentration of their better minds, their scientific minds. How long do you think it will be, friend, before they are ready for us?"
"Ready, ready—? In what way, ready?"
"The only way they know, the only thing they seem to have time for—ready for war."
"War—," Deering said, and sighed. "Oh, Jars, they will be beyond war, certainly, before they are cognizant of us. They are no tribe of incompetents; they grow each day."
"They—?" Jars' smile was cynical. "Their scientists grow. Are their scientists in command, sir?"
That "sir" had been unnecessary; Jars was the senior mind, here. Deering didn't miss it, and he flushed.
Jars said softly, "I apologize. It was not a thing to say. I have spent too much time in the study of these—monsters."
They had gone to school, together, those two, and the bond was there and the respect, but they were different, mentally, and each knew it.
"You have a sharp tongue," Deering said, "but a sharper mind. I believe I can stand it." He smiled. "Love, fear, hate—what does it matter to us, except as phenomena?"