Lindoo, arrayed as a conquering hero of the Loard-vogh should, awaited in the grand spacecraft of the Loard-vogh at Panama. The area had been scourged by fire and by sheer energy. Yet the tropical climate seemed to spawn trouble for the Loard-vogh. Behind a triple sheet of reflectionless glass, Lindoo sat, outwardly triumphant, but inwardly afraid. He hoped that the powerful, color-less antiseptic mixtures between the sheets of glass would keep him safe. Hurled in to the other side of the room were Kennebec and his daughter. Thompson followed, and Lane and Downing were hurled in lastly. They stood up defiantly. Kennebec faced Lindoo. "You are the emissary of the Loard-vogh?" "You know me--and my language?" "Why not?" asked Kennebec. "Your speech is not difficult." "No matter. You have this ability with all alien tongues?" Downing smiled. "I spent one month among your planets, mingling with your people. They did not suspect." "All alien tongues?" insisted Lindoo. "Any, and all, can be learned by us in a matter of hours." "Your race will be useful. Do you now accept defeat?" "It was forced upon us?" "Accept it!" exploded Lindoo, "or die!" "A dead slave is useless," reminded Kennebec. "And a dead malcontent is no trouble," snapped Lindoo. "Do you accept defeat?" "As I said, defeat was forced upon us. Yes, we must accept defeat." "Then broadcast the order to cease firing. Order Terra to drop its arms and submit." "Will the integrity of our people be preserved?" "Unconditional surrender does not permit terms." "I will surrender unconditionally--but I demand the right to be treated as a worthy opponent." "Your defeat at our hands was inevitable." "We know that." "Then why did you fight?" "Only to gain your respect as an enemy." Lindoo bowed his head briefly. "You have our respect. You have had our respect enough to cause a major change in the Master Plan. You will not be treated with contempt. There will be no looting, no pillage. Not if you will submit without further fight." "Your terms I accept." And Kennebec picked up the communicator and snapped the switch to General Broadcast. * * * * * And on Procyon IV, four survivors clustered around a crude, haywired receiver picked up the message. When it was through, they left their hidden cave full of Loard-vogh souvenirs. Openly they walked to the nearest encampment and knocked on the stockade. And across the Galaxy to Vorgan, Lord of All, went the final word: "The Solarian Sector is complete. All Solarians are being tested for adaptability, and upon completion will be trans-shipped to the proper situations in the Loard-vogh empire. Terra, Sol, and the entire Mutation Area will be left devoid of life." Within hours, Lindoo was working on the problem of displacement. He--and all of the Loard-vogh--worked madly to complete this project. For all of them wanted to leave, forever, the former Planet of Terror. Terra--conquered, completely!