"They didn't even know the difference between dumb erks and smart erks!" the sister chuckled. "Didn't you see that old sister, the one they call Delilah? In the receiving line? A couple of dumb erks sneaked in to steal some of the food, and she actually stroked the fore-knuckles of one of them!"
There was more that the sister knew, and that lasted Jupiter through the palm soup and the inkling fricassee, while smart erk waiters came through refilling java cups and reminding everybody to save their admission tickets and picking up the dirty dishes. The sister had a lot to say. She had overheard a lot. She had overheard the Real-American sister Delilah consulting with A-Belinka, the smart erk who was chief matter-transporter operator. Funnily Delilah hadn't seemed to want to talk about sending warships to Earth. (It had been very uncomfortable for Delilah, the sister giggled, because the erk had sat in her lap to talk to her.) The other Real-American sister, Miranda, had been constantly whispering to the Senators and Congressones, trying to find out just how the government of Yankee World worked. A Senator and a Congressone from each nest, yes, but what did they do? When they convened, did they pass laws? How were they elected? The Senator by selection of the Sister Mother alone, the Congressone by choice of the nest male? But didn't anybody vote on anything?
"What do we want 'laws' for?" Jupe demanded.
"She didn't say, Jupiter. And she didn't explain about 'voting.' There's a lot that's funny about the Real-Americans, and especially about the President! Let me just tell you—"
But she never did tell Jupiter the funny thing about the President, because the Governor stood up and tapped her java cup with her heavy glass spork for attention. "Ladies and gentlemen and honored erks," she said, "the President of the United States."
The hall became as still as it could be—no hall with dumb erks tumbling around under the tables could be wholly still. Perhaps it was the constant undermotif of happy or hurt erk squeals that made the President seem uncomfortable. Perhaps it was something else; Jupe noticed that President Castor Pettyman kept looking anxiously at Secretary of State Delilah Tsoong as he spoke.
And what he said was rather peculiar.
"On behalf of the peoples of the United States of America," he began, and stopped as the Governor leaned forward to adjust his lapel mike.
"Thank you," he said, licked his lips, glanced at Delilah Tsoong, and went on. "On behalf of the peoples of the United States of America, we thank you for having us here. This is a most important occasion. It will be written about in the history books for thousands of years to come."
"Why is he telling us that?" Jupe muttered to the room at large.
The erk Jutch said reprovingly, "This is a political speech, Jupiter. You weren't really briefed properly at all, were you? You're supposed to be quiet—except when it is time to cheer."
"When is it time to cheer?" Jupe demanded.
"You'll see. Please listen!"
Jupiter shrugged and paid attention to the speech. "—much time has passed," the President was saying. "Much history has taken place. Many things that were true one hundred years ago are true no longer, isn't that true?"
That seemed to be a time to cheer, because the Delilah sister leaned forward. "True!" she shouted. It was an obvious cue, and the eager erks and Yanks did not fail to seize it. All around the room, every Yank and every English-speaking erk shouted, True, true! Jupe was as loud as any. That was fun! He was in a real patriotic rally, with his real President! It was disconcerting that some of the things the President said were—well—strange. But still!
"So," the President went on, glancing again at the American sister with the strangely shaped face, "we must go cautiously. We must not make mistakes. We must confer and learn to understand each other's needs and problems, isn't that true?"
This time the shouts of True! were a little fainter, as though others in the audience had begun to wonder just what was being said—though this time even the dumb erks under the table yipped and chattered inarticulate somethings, too, enjoying the game.
Jupiter looked around the room. Every human face was showing some degree of puzzlement. Of course, with erk faces you couldn't tell. Still, Jutch leaned over to him. "Why doesn't he say something about the war?" he asked.
"Hush," said Jupiter severely, since it was the same question he had wanted to ask.
The President continued:
"So our first objective here is to learn what you have to tell us so that then we may tell you all we know. I have arranged with your Governor"—he turned and bowed courteously to the sister from Cherry Hill Nest—"to give us a week of briefings, including a tour of, ah, World. We will take ten of you with us, the names chosen at random. We will learn all we can. Then we will address the entire population of World, both human and—ah, uck?—erk— on television."
He paused and beamed around the room. Jupe had the idea that the President's smile was somewhat forced. Then he said, "Thank you," and sat down. The applause was considerable, but it frayed away into silence as everyone waited for something to happen up on the platform. Very little did, and what was happening was not very interesting. The Governor was whispering in the ear of the President, and the Secretary of State was saying something nasty and punishing to the rebellious-looking younger Real-American sister Miranda. Jupiter could hear none of that.
The erk Jutch put his forepaws on Jupiter's shoulder and chirped, "Come on, Jupiter, tell me. Isn't there going to be a war?"
"Of course there's going to be a war," snapped Jupiter. He pushed the erk away and said severely, "Don't you know anything? You can't just have a war any time you want one!"
"We always did," the erk said sadly.
"You're erks! We're Americans! First there has to be a planning session. Then the military people have to make plans. Then there has to be, I don't know, like an exchange of diplomatic notes," he improvised, trying to remember his history lessons, "and then an ultimatum. Then we have the war."
"It sounds like a lot of extra trouble to me," said the erk.
"This is an American war. We'll do it the American way. Erks have nothing to say about it."
"Oh, now, really, Jupe," the erk objected. "Those are all our weapons and ships and things that we're giving you to fight this war with. We ought to have some rights. Not to mention a lot of us will be fighting right alongside you."
Jupe shook his head in irritation. "Erks always fight," he pointed out. "That's what erks are all about, isn't it? So pay attention and learn something. Our human rules of warfare are very sensible and simple—"
But he never got to the very simple rules, because from the tables all around them erks and people were shushing them and calling, "Shut up, you two. You're missing it!"
"Missing what?" Jupiter demanded belligerently and then saw that up at the center stage, where the Governor was standing patiently, the orchestra had just finished another rendition of "Hail to the Chief."
The Governor applauded politely and then called, "Fellow Americans! We are now ready to have the drawing. I hope every one of you has kept the stub of your admission ticket, which you will see is numbered. The numbers will now be drawn at random, and each number called will entitle the erk or Yankee who holds it to form part of the escort party for the President and his staff as they tour World."
The sixth number drawn was Jupiter's.
II
When the party was assembled there were twenty-five of them, the ten escorts who won the lottery, the three high officials from Real America, and about a dozen officials, erk and human, who appointed themselves to the group. Some had a reason to be there, like the Governor herself and the erk A-Belinka, head operator of the matter transporter, who would be an important part of any invasion of Earth—if any invasion of Earth was ever really going to happen. Most were simply just along for the fun. They were too many for carry-birds to deal with, so two hoverplanes were provided. That meant there was plenty of room to carry them all in comfort, but when the Real-American sister Miranda heard that Jupiter was trying to get permission to fly along with them in Flash, she fussed and complained and got on everybody's nerves until they gave Jupe his permission. Then she gave herself permission to fly with him in the carry-bird.