space-yacht _Sylva_,
paced up and down the room where he waited to be called. His daughter
sat tranquilly in a chair. She smiled pleasantly at Bors when he came
in. Morgan turned to face him.

"Here's some Talents, Incorporated information," he said zestfully. "The
cabinet is scared. A few are willing to fight, but most are already
trying to think how they can make terms with the Mekinese."

Bors opened his mouth to swear, then checked himself.

"Gwenlyn," said Morgan, "will pardon an expression of honest
indignation. It's a dirty shame, eh?"

"If I were a native of Kandar," said Bors bitterly, "I'd be even more
ashamed than I am as a native of Tralee. The people of Tralee
surrendered, but they didn't realize what they were getting into. These
men do!"

The girl Gwenlyn said quietly, "I'm sorry for King Humphrey."

"He's miscast," said Morgan briskly. "He should be king of a calm and
peaceful world in calm and peaceful times. You're going to have trouble
with him, Captain Bors!" Then he said; "Perhaps we can work out a plan
or two, eh? While you're waiting for the cabinet to call you back?"

"I've no authority," said Bors. "My uncle's the Pretender of Tralee, and
I was originally commissioned in the fleet as a sort of courtesy to him.
I can't speak for anybody but myself."

"You can speak for common sense," said Gwenlyn. "After all, you know
what the people really want. You could try to arrange things so that the
fleet can fight well."

"It'll fight well," said Bors curtly. "It'll give a good account of
itself! But that won't do any good!"

Morgan struck an attitude, beaming.

"Ah! But you've got Talents, Incorporated on your side! You don't
realize yet, Captain, what a difference that can make! While there's
life and Talents, Incorporated, there's hope!"

Bors shrugged. Suddenly he found that he, too, drearily accepted defeat.
There was no more hope of accomplishment. There was nothing to be
achieved. He would serve no purpose by straining against the impossible.

He said tiredly, "I'll agree that Talents, Incorporated cost the
Mekinese one cruiser."

"A trifle," said Morgan, waving his hand, "mere soupcon of
accomplishment. We're prepared to do vastly more."

It occurred to Bors to be curious.

"Why? You're risking your life and your daughter's by staying here. If
Mekin ever finds out about its cruiser on the sea bottom and your share
in that affair, you'll be in a fix! And certainly you can't exp