"It's no great advantage as goes time or power," agreed Billy, "but when you're fighting a time limit, as we are, time in this space is what counts and if we have to go into subspace and study until we are a hundred years old before we find the answer, to come back with only a year gone, that's it. So see what you can do about tacking a warper into a spaceship, will you? And take another swing at the core of VanMaanen's Star. As soon as you have something, drop everything and bring it to Terra. I've got to get back, but quick." * * * * * Hotang Lu's return to Tlembo was hailed with silence. It was the silence of defeat, the sympathetic attitude for one who has tried, succeeded in his attempt, and found that his attempt lacked a vital factor. Hotang Lu had done his part. It was Terra that failed. Tlembo had guessed wrong. Yet Tlembo must try again and again until they became successful. The Little People were tenacious. They wanted their liberty, not slavery to the Loard-vogh. And they would fight to the last Tlemban for it. Not for Hotang Lu were parades and hordes of people to cheer him on his march up the broad avenue of his home city. He was whisked to the temple of government almost invisibly, yet the mental rapport of all Tlembans told them that Hotang Lu had returned--unsuccessfully. Indan Ko, their ruler, gave Hotang Lu immediate audience. "I've mentioned none of our plans," said the ruler, "because I fear interception." "Plans?" asked Hotang Lu bitterly. "With success in our grasp, they throw it away. What more can we ask?" "Your tone is that of defeat. We must not admit it, even to ourselves." "Self-delusion," spat Hotang Lu. "Not at all. We know a set-back when we see one. But we must not dwell upon it, lest we become single-minded and believe that our cause is doomed." "Is there a better bet in the Galaxy than Terra?" "There must be. Terra seemed a best bet. Yet perhaps their survival factor was so great that they prefer slavery to extermination. Is that rational?" Hotang Lu nodded dumbly. "We have Sscantoo." "But they are almost at the pinnacle of their culture," objected the emissary. "We cannot energize their minds." "Agreed. But they are an ungregarious race. They cling together only because civilization demands tribe-protection. They are fierce fighters. They hate every alien being. They dislike even contact between themselves, yet prefer that to traffic with an alien culture. Go to Sscantoo, Hotang Lu, and convince Linzete that his race is in danger of slavery at the hands of the Loard-vogh. Tell him, if he does not know already, that the Loard-vogh have conquered Terra. Perhaps Linzete knows what Terra's secret weapon is. Was it ever disclosed?" "The end came too soon. It was never used. Nor--and I cannot understand--did I see anything of its manufacture." "Linzete has most of Terra's secrets by mutual agreement. Perhaps he has also that secret."