The Loard-vogh at the instrument was sweating profusely. His hands were clenched, and blood ran from the center of the right fist where his fingernails had pierced his palm. His entire frame was tense, and his eyes were half-closed. Vorgan looked, nodded, and spoke freely to the recorder beside Kregar. The Lord of All knew that the operative was concentrated beyond all physical stimuli. "The details, Neckal?" "Lord of All, the battle progresses favorably. The Extremes--they are fighting each other. As you entered, the Susceptible One's mind indicated that there might have been a culmination to their feud. Two of their weapons have been discharged in a location that makes us believe that simultaneous death may have taken place. Toralen Ki is fighting for his life--" Vorgan laughed. "Thirty-odd pounds against six times that mass! Lindoo, your operator has done well." "Naturally," said Lindoo proudly. He could afford to be proud; he had picked Kregar. "Yet I feel that we should do something about the Planet of Terror." "You think--?" "Sending out another suppressor will do no good." "You are certain?" "Not entirely. I just fear them. It is good sense to fear a strong enemy, Lindoo. We, of course, shall conquer, but far better to find them easily beaten than to lose ten billion of Loard-vogh's finest." "The master plan does not call for invasion of that sector for twenty-four hundred years." "I should hate to have my ultimate offspring cast slurs at my memory--and perhaps erect a statue to throw excrement at." "But one cannot cover all dangers--" "I know. Yet let us wait. It will depend upon Kregar's success." Neckal spoke: "The battle progresses." Vorgan frowned. "Why or how can one so small defend himself against one of the Planet of Terror?" "The Little Man is agile and the Terran is clumsy." Lindoo nodded. "We may both curse and praise that. If the Terran were less clumsy, he might well be more difficult for Kregar." "Toralen Ki also has mental amplification." Kregar's hands opened and closed convulsively. Once they clutched at a space near his belt, but closed as though in futility--what he sought was not there. He reached forward, and only Neckal's quick action in turning Kregar around slightly prevented the Loard-vogh from clutching a delicate adjustment of the instrument through which Kregar worked. Lindoo smiled. "It is written that a good big man will always conquer a good small man, my Lord of All." "What lies between the Loard-vogh and the Planet of Terror?" "Ten thousand light-leagues of space." "A most dangerous spearhead--is it not?" "It might be more than dangerous. To fight a war on many fronts is death. To warn a thousand races between the Loard-vogh and Terra might be the balance." "Then we must hope," said Vorgan. "And only as a last resort will we drive forward."