Bernard pitied them. If anything, the Norglans had a higher opinion of themselves and their relation to the universe at large than any of the Earthmen had; and it had been crushing enough to the Terran ego to discover that such a race as the Rosgollans existed. How much more agonizing it must be, he wondered, for the Norglans to discover that they could be plucked from their planet and hurled incalculable distances across the sky by strange glowing beings of another galaxy?
He became aware that Rosgollans were returning. Like fireflies they glimmered on the horizon, flickering into existence all about. Two, three, fifty, a hundred: soon the meadow was ringed with the radiant creatures, will-o’-the-wisps floating above the dew-flecked ground.
A silent Rosgollan voice said, “We have interrogated the Norglans while they journeyed here. We learn from them that they hold it is their manifest destiny to conquer all the universe, while you Earthmen have something of the same belief. Obviously, one side or the other must give ground or there can be no peace between you, and war will sunder your planets.”
Skrinri growled—evidently the Rosgollan’s words had been intelligible to the Norglans as well as the Earthmen— “We have been fair to the Terrans. We permit them to keep their own worlds. But the other planets—these must be ours.”
“By whose grant?” asked the Rosgollan with a trace of mockery in the bland voice. “At whose behest do you take possession of all the worlds there are?”
“At our own!” rumbled the Norglan, getting some of his self-confidence back. “The worlds are there; we reach them; we take them. What greater authority do we need than our own strength?”
“None,” replied the Rosgollan. “But your own strength is insufficient. Weak, arrogant, blustering creatures you are, nothing more. I speak now to both participants in this dispute.”
Skrinri and Vortakel seemed to curdle with rage. “We do not speak more! Return us to our world or we shall take steps! Imperial Norgla does not tolerate this manner of abuse. We…”
Vortakel’s voice died away in sudden confusion. He and Skrinri had risen from the ground during their outburst; now they hovered, better than a yard above the grasstops, kicking their feet in rage and frustration. Involuntarily, several of the Earthmen laughed—but the laughter died away, quickly, guiltily. Bernard felt a twinge of shame at his laughter. Two intelligent creatures were being humiliated before their eyes; proud spirits were being broken. Ludicrous though the scene might be, no Earthman had a right to laugh. We may be dangling next, for all we know, Bernard thought somberly as he watched the outraged Norglans writhe.
“Put us down!” Skrinri howled.
“Come, show us your strength now, men of Imperial Norgla,” came the dry, mocking murmur of the Rosgollan spokesman. Calmly, they put into words their challenge. “You do not tolerate levitation, Norglans? Very well, then. Force us to stop.”
Double-elbowed purple arms flailed the air madly. The Norglans rose, inch by inexorable inch, while the Earthmen kept stony silence. Now Skrinri and Vortakel were more than their own heights above the ground, and looking down in dismay and anger.
“Put—us—down!” Skrinri grunted.
“Very well.”
“You—ummph!” The Norglans dropped suddenly, much to their own great surprise. They landed in an undignified heap and remained on the ground a moment, hugging it, as though wanting to be absolutely certain they were no longer under the control of the Rosgollans’ powers. When the two Norglans rose, it was slowly, with bowed heads, and they did not look at the Earthmen.
There was an instant of silence.
Then the Rosgollans said, “We have taken you from your home world, and we have shown you the true extent of your strength. Answer us now, men of Imperial Norgla. And still you claim the universe is yours?”
The Norglans made no reply.
The Rosgollan voice continued, quiet but rolling with monumental majesty all the same, “And there stand the Earthmen, creatures less sure of themselves than these Norglans, but equally proud, equally greedy. You, Earthmen: you would divide the universe with the men of Norgla, we learn. But does it lie in your hands to make such an apportionment, Earthmen?”
For a long moment none of the little bank of Terrans dared speak. It was futile to trumpet slogans of strength, in the teeth of beings who held powers beyond comprehension. Shaking a fist at a whirlwind is more a demonstration of weakness than of strength.
But something had to be said.
Some justification had to be made.
I am not the spokesman, Martin Bernard thought. I have no need to speak out. Why should 1 not keep silence?
But silence, he saw, would be intolerable, and if no one else spoke forth he would have to do so. Someone had to speak in defense of Earth and Earth’s pretensions, at what was rapidly taking on many of the aspects of a trial by jury.
Bernard moved forward self-consciously, standing between his group and the Norglans and looking off at where he thought the Rosgollan spokesman stood.
“We acted in no sense of pride,” Bernard said quietly. “Our actions stem from motives that do not need apology. We are a growing race; we sought room to expand. The Norglans, like us, must have more room. Our hope was to reach an agreement that would prevent a conflict of interests and thus a destructive war.”
“You laid claim to half the universe,” the Rosgollan voice said accusingly. “Where is the humility in this? Where the self-restraint?”
Bernard held his ground, sensing the silent encouragement of his fellow Earthmen. “We laid claim to half the universe, yes,” he said. “We did so thinking that the universe held no people but Terran and Norglan. There lay our pride, in that blind assumption. We were wrong, tragically wrong. There are other races in the universe, we now know, and of all the races we are the youngest, and therefore the most foolish, and for this rashness of youth we ask indulgence. But we still claim the right to expand. We still claim the right to colonize worlds which now lie empty.”
He thought he had scored a point. But then he felt waves of ironic laughter sweeping down from the circling jury of Rosgollans. Color mounted to his face, and he realized that what he had hoped was a ringing declaration had turned into a whining plea.
“The Earthmen reduce their claim,” commented the Rosgollan voice sardonically. “Instead of half the universe, now they simply demand half of the uninhabited worlds. It is a major concession, we must suppose. It shows commendable willingness to be flexible. What of you proud men of Imperial Norgla? Speak for your people, give us your answer. Will you, too, reduce your claim?”
The Norglans did not hurry to reply. They had adjusted to the strangeness of their situation by this time, and they conferred for a long time before Vortakel said slowly, “You have shown us that— perhaps—we are not—not yet—the strongest people of the universe. We cannot fight you. Therefore we yield.”
Well, now, Bernard thought. I’d say that was pretty noble of you, old boy. He grinned. You’re willing to make the grudging admission that you’re licked. I’ll bet it must have hurt!
For a long frozen moment after the Norglan declaration no one moved, no one reacted visibly. The slump-shouldered Norglans remained standing at each other’s side like a pair of beleaguered Vikings making a last stand, while the Earthmen huddled in their little group some twenty feet away, and the ringing circle of Rosgollans remained around them, more sensed than seen.