said. "Defending fleet calling Mekinese
fleet!"

In seconds a reply came back.

"_Mekinese Grand Admiral calling Kandar_," the voice answered
arrogantly. "_What do you want?_"

"We will discuss capitulation on behalf of Kandar," said the old man.
"Will you give us terms?"

He grimaced, and said, aside, to Bors, "I'm speaking for Humphrey as I
know he'd speak. But I am ashamed!"

There was a pause. It took time for the Pretender's voice to reach the
enemy and as long for the reply to come back. The reply was ironic and
arrogant and amused.

"_What terms can you hope for?_" it demanded. "_You attacked our ships.
You indulged in destruction! How can you hope for terms?_"

The Pretender scratched his ear thoughtfully. He regarded the radar
screen with regret.

"We ask life for the people of our planet," he said steadily. He was
annoyed that he had to speak for the tardy King of Kandar. "We ask that
they not be punished for our resistance."

The young men in the control room looked astonished. Then they saw
Bors's expression, and grinned.

A long pause. The boiling, shifting specks on the radar-screen began to
have a definite order. The Mekinese voice, when it came, was triumphant
and overbearing.

"_We will spare your planet_," it said contemptuously, "_but not you.
You have dared to fight us. Stand and be destroyed, and there will be no
punishment for your world. There are no other terms._"

The Pretender looked at Bors. He shrugged.

"_Now_ what would the king do?" He looked puzzled.

"What can our dummy fleet do?" asked Bors.

The Pretender nodded. "We will offer no resistance," he said into the
transmitter.

There was a long silence. Bors looked at the radar-screen. The mass of
bright specks at the edge of the screen seemed to have sent a shining
wave before it. It was actually a swarm of missiles. They were so far
away that they could not be picked up as individuals on the screen. They
were a glow, a shine, a wave of pale luminosity.

"We shift to low-power overdrive readiness," said Bors. "That is an
order."

A ship-voice murmured, "_Low-power overdrive in circuit, sir._"

He watched the screen. The Mekinese missiles accelerated at a terrific
rate. They left their parent ships far behind. They were a third of the
way to the drone-fleet and the _Liberty_ before Bors spoke again.

"Launch and inflate another target-globe," he ordered drily. "We could
speak for the king since he was late. But w