Once again at the table, Dennis began: "Now we can have a definite plan. Here's the strategy, two of us will use space-suits and rocket belts to lure as many of the spheres as possible to a point near Koerber's camp, and _one of us must enter Koerber's domain with a ready made story_! That man, the one to enter Koerber's camp, will be _the bait for the spheres_. He will concentrate on maintaining the powerful emotion of fear in his mind, as strongly as he's able. Dennis paused, his hazel eyes brilliant with anticipation, surveying the men around him. "All of us know that the chosen man may not come through this alive--Koerber may not believe his story ... the spheres may succeed in getting him. However, if he's clever and quick...." Captain Dennis shrugged his great shoulders. It was then Jeffery interrupted him: "We'll draw lots for that, won't we, Captain?" His voice was harsh. A faint nod from Dennis accepted the question as a fact. The Captain walked over to a cabinet and picked up something. Returning to the table he continued: "The fourth man will have to stay here and broadcast." He turned a small box over on the table and several objects the size of small coins, spilled out. "These midget speakers may or may not work--anyway, propaganda at a psychological moment has intense effect, and is worth trying out. The man who goes into Koerber's camp will take some of these and get rid of them in strategic places wherever he can. Remember, the job of broadcasting is just as important as any other in this set up. Keep hammering at them. They won't be able to locate the speakers until it is too late. Keep pounding into their heads that this _new weapon of the I.S.P. is invincible_! Tell them it is radio-controlled and invulnerable as far as present arms are concerned. Keep working on them ... don't let up for a minute!" Jeffery had been methodically tearing strips of paper and now he handed them to Dennis. "Three strips of paper, Captain ... and four men!" Dennis searched the grim, tense faces before him, then handed the strips to Scotty who picked up a book and started putting the strips between the pages. The other members of the council watched his back curiously, until the crash of an overturned chair snapped their heads around. They looked squarely into the muzzle of an atom-blast gun. Their jaws went slack with astonishment. "I am the commander of this cruiser," Captain Brooke's voice, flat and opaque had an unequivocal finality. "Walk over to the wall, stand five feet from the base, lean forward and press your hands against the wall!" With the three men completely off balance, Dennis methodically disarmed them. He placed all their weapons on the table, and then proceeded to encase himself in one of the bulky space-suits, keeping a careful eye on the fuming Dallas. As he dressed he continued to talk.