He did not even plan to go home with news of a successful operation or a successful raid. The Third Expedition was to be final. And he must allow for the Vaynamoans having had a generation in which to recuperate. He’d smashed their heavy industry, but if they were really determined, they could have rebuilt. No doubt a space fleet of some kind would be waiting to oppose him.

He knew it couldn’t be of comparable power. Ten million people, forced to recreate all their mines and furnaces and factories before they could lay the keel of a single boat, had no possibility of matching the concerted efforts of six and a half billion whose world had been continuously industrialized for centuries, and who could draw on the resources of two subject planets. Sheer mathematics ruled it out. But the ten million could accomplish something: and nuclear-fusion missiles were to some degree an equalizer. Therefore Bors Golyev asked for so much strength that the greatest conceivable enemy force would be swamped. And he got it.

Elva leaned on the balcony rail. A chill wind fluttered her gown around her, so that the rainbow hues rippled and ran into each other. She had to admit that the fabric was lovely. Bors tried hard to please her. (Though why must he mention the price?) He was so childishly happy himself, at his accomplishments, at his new eminence, at the eight-room apartment which he now rated on the very heights of the Lebedan Tower.

“Not that we’ll be here long,” he had said, after they first explored its intricacies. “My son Nivko has done good work in the home office. That’s how come I got this command; experience alone wasn’t enough. Of course, he’ll expect me to help along his sons…But anyhow, the Third Expedition can go even sooner than I’d hoped. Just a few months, and we’re on our way.”

“We?” murmured Elva.

“You do want to come, don’t you?”

“The last voyage, you weren’t so eager.”

“Uh, yes. I did have a deuce of a time, too, getting you aboard. But this’ll be different. First, I’ve got so much rank I’m beyond criticism, even beyond jealousy. And second, well, you count too. You’re not any picked-up native female. You’re Elva! The girl who on her own hook got that fellow Ivalo to confess.”

She turned her head slightly, regarding him sideways from droop-lidded blue eyes. Under the ruddy sun, her hair turned to raw gold. “I should think the news would have alarmed them, here on Chertkoi,” she said. “Being told that they nearly brought their own extinction about. I wonder that they dare launch another attack.”

Golyev grinned. “You should have heard the ruckus. Some Directors did vote to keep hands off Vaynamo. Others wanted to sterilize the whole planet with cobalt missiles. But I talked ’em around. Once we’ve beaten the fleet and occupied the planet, its whole population will be hostage for good behavior. We’ll make examples of the first few goozes who give us trouble of any sort. Then they’ll know we mean what we say when we announce our policy. At the first suspicion of plague among us, we’ll lay waste a continent. If the suspicion is confirmed, we’ll bombard the whole works. No, there won’t be any bug warfare.”