"We are a million million in population," said Billy. "That's counting the Solar Combine plus the colonial outposts. This fight we're facing can not be won in another way. They outnumber us a million to one--think of that! To win, every Solarian must kill one million Loard-vogh! And that," he concluded bitterly, "makes us all come out even!" "There isn't a man in this sector that wouldn't prefer to die protecting his own than to knuckle under Loard-vogh rule." "I know--" "Billy, I can not permit this order to continue," said Kennebec. "We must not permit them to take Terra!" "Then you're overriding my order?" "I am--and I pray that the procrastination isn't fatal." Downing frowned. "Look, Billy, remember this: The Loard-vogh fear us as we are! Otherwise they would not be mobilizing against us. Despite the million-to-one ratio, they fear us and our heredity. We can and will win!" "We'll win, never fear," said Billy. "But we'll win only if we play it properly." "And properly means to fight with every weapon that we have." "Spore bombs?" "That's but one thing." "They'll help--only to make the other trillion Loard-vogh mad. Douse a few planets and thousands of others will muster." Billy Thompson thought for a moment and then answered: "Really, it makes little difference how we fight. We'll win anyway. Go ahead and build your gadgets." He left, and Hotang Lu nodded. "I pray there is time left. Time to build smaller ones, too, that will fit the ships of the Solar Guard. Time to manufacture the necessary fighting equipment. Time to ... ah, always we are fighting time. I curse the lack of time." And then the Tlemban added: "I am mystified. In my cosmos, if a secret weapon is worthy of use, it is worthy of use from the time it is discovered. I am puzzled--but then, I do not understand your secret weapon. It sounds foolish to me." Kennebec spent the next three hours trying to make the Tlemban understand, and finally gave up. XIV. Lindoo strode into the presence of Vorgan, Lord of All, and handed an aide a scroll for the record. The Lord of All nodded and said nothing. Nor was there anything to say that had not been said previously. Any further discussion would be merely re-contemplation of ideas. The proof was four months off. It would take four long months between this day--when Lindoo handed Vorgan's aide the scroll, giving the official date and time of I-second, when the invasion spearhead of the Loard-vogh blasted upward from the locus and headed for Sol--to the time when the first of the advance flight reached the Solar Sector. Four months of just sheer waiting. Four months which the gadget-mad Terrans would use in preparation after the grand fleet of the Loard-vogh was a-space, and growing flight-weary. Four months, full of intership bickerings and man-to-man fights because the quarters were too confined.