"But this, I find, is wrong. Such a belief is not life. It is death--extinction first of the soul, then of the mind, and finally of the body. Your weapon struck us here at the core of our belief and through our weakest link--a link we had to keep because, paradoxically, it was also the source of our strength and unity. Through our neurocommunicators your feelings, emotions, and beliefs waged battle with our own. And yours won because their truth was more basic and more just than our own. And so we were disarmed. We were confused. We could not hold control. And finally we could not kill--not even ourselves!" The muscle in his cheek twitched again. * * * * * Fiske drew a deep breath. With sudden understanding he recalled his own feelings when he had heard Ellen on that tape. But there must have been more than Ellen--much more. All those others--and somehow the Eglani had sensed the true meaning behind that nauseous gabble! And the meaning had destroyed them! Of course, this single action wasn't the end of the war, but it was the beginning of the end. The war would go on, but now it wouldn't be humanity with its back against the wall. The Eglani, too, would know the meaning of defeat. Fiske sighed. Somehow he couldn't help feeling sorry for them. They were _too_ understanding! "Thank you," Sar Lauton said unexpectedly. "Your sympathy is appreciated." Fiske looked at him uncomfortably. "Take him away, Oley," he said, "and put him with the others. I'm getting this crate out of here." Fiske sank into the control chair and scanned the board. There was no problem here. He knew Eglan centralized controls almost as well as his own. One man could operate this ship if necessary although it took many others to fight and service it. He energized the drives and the ship moved ahead. The view-screens glowed framing star studded space and the battered shape of the "Dauntless" falling slowly astern. The old girl lay quietly, coasting through space, gleaming faintly in the cold light of the distant stars. Slowly she shrank to a toy as the Eglan ship moved away. It was time, Fiske thought, as he adjusted a vernier dial and pushed a small lever. The faint ion trail of the torpedo shone like a pale swordblade in the darkness vanishing toward the derelict astern. Seconds passed and then a gigantic fireball blotted out the stars, and with its dying the "Dauntless" was gone save for a fiercely radiating haze of molecules that spread rapidly outward through circumambient space.... * * * * * Pedersen came in quietly and took a seat opposite Fiske. "The prisoners are secure, sir, and our men are ready for Cth jump," he said. "Good. We'll start familiarization after we reach cruising component." "Aye sir." "The "Dauntless" is gone," Fiske said absently as he energized the converters and the ship shivered at the border of hyperspace. "I know. I saw her die." "She was a good ship."