it down with them over there."

An elegant civilian, a large man with patient, drooping features,
stated that nothing had occurred to change the economic situation.
Another reported that unofficial channels of information were holding
up as well as could be expected. A uniformed officer summarized the
battle situation in two more star systems.

"Those are positions we actually desire to hold, are they not?"
Hennings asked. "Is action to be taken there?"

"Plans call for local civilian riots at the height of the conference,
sir."

"But ... can we lay no groundwork sooner than that? Sometime in the
foreseeable future, at least! Take it up with Propaganda, Blauvelt! It
seems to me that the briefing mentioned an indigenous race on one of
these planets--"

Blauvelt dropped his eyes momentarily, equivalent in that gathering to
a blush of intense embarrassment. Hennings coughed apologetically.

"Well, now, I should not pry into arrangements I must later be able to
deny convincingly with a clear conscience. I can only plead, my dear
Blauvelt, the tenseness of the past several days."

The officer murmured inaudibly, fumbled with his papers, and edged to
the rear rank. Someone, at Commodore Miller's fluttering, obtained a
vacuum jug of ice water and a glass for the marshal, but Hennings
chose instead to produce a long cigar from a pocket concealed beneath
his resplendent collection of medals.

"My apologies to all of you," he said thoughtfully. "I fear that any
of you who may expect contact with the local population had better see
Dr. Ibn Talal about the hypnosis necessary to counteract my little
indiscretion. And now--what remains?"

"Nothing but the prisoner exchange, sir," Commodore Miller announced
after collecting the eyes of the principal officers.

Hennings got his cigar going. He listened to confirmation of a
previous report that a massive exchange of "sick and wounded"
prisoners had been accomplished, and learned that the Ursans now
suspected that they had accepted unknowingly about as many secret
agents as they had sent the Polluxians.

"Oh, well!" he sighed. "As long as the amenities were preserved! We
must be as friendly as possible about that sort of thing, or run the
risk of antagonizing them."

Seeing that the commodore was tense with impatience, the marshal rose
to his feet. An aide deftly received the cigar for disposal, and the
party drifted expectantly toward the balcony doors.

From among that