Robbins grinned savagely. "I hope you play it that way. I'll have fun. But do you want to hear how it could be worked?"
"Well... go ahead."
"You can make it easy or hard. Either way, you are through. Now... keep quiet and let me tell it! You're done, Mac. I don't claim to be a scholar of xenic affairs, but even I can see that civilization can't afford your county-courthouse approach to delicate relations with non-human races. . So you're through. The question is: do you do it the hard way? Or do you go easy on yourself and get a nice puff in the history books?"
MacClure glowered but did not interrupt. "Force me to spill what I know, and one of two things happens. Either the Secretary General throws you to the wolves, or he decides to back you up and risk a vote of 'no confidence' from the Council. Which is what he would get. The Martian Commonwealth would gleefully lead the stampede, Venus would follow, the outer colonies and the associated xenic cultures would join in. At the end you would have most of the Terran nations demanding that the North American Union surrender this one individual to avert a bust-up of the Federation.
"All you have to do is to shove the first domino; all the others would fall... and you would be buried under the pile. You couldn't be elected dogcatcher. But the easy way runs like this. You resign... but we don't publish the fact, not for a couple of weeks... Henry, do you think two weeks will be long enough?"
"It should be ample," Mr. Kiku agreed gravely.
"During that time you don't wipe your nose without Henry's permission. You don't say a word unless I okay it. Then you resign in a blaze of glory, with the conclusion of the Hroshian Affair to crown your career. Possibly some way can be found to kick you upstairs to a gaudier job... if you are a good boy. Eh, Henry?"
Mr. Kiku nodded.
MacClure looked around from Kiku's expressionless face to Robbins' contemptuous one. "You two have it neatly plotted," he said bitterly. 'Suppose I told you both to go to the devil?"
Robbins yawned. 'It won't matter in the long run, believe me. After the administration falls, the new Secretary General will call Henry out of retirement, a safe man will be stuck in your place, and Henry will get on with outmaneuvering the Hroshii. Probably lose three days maybe less. Whitewashing you is harder, but we meant to give you a break. Right, Henry?"
"It would be better so. Dirty linen is best kept in a cupboard."
MacClure chewed his lip. "I'll think it over."
"Good! And I'll wait while you do. Henry, why don't you get back to work? I'll bet that trick desk is lighted up like a Christmas tree."
"Very well." Mr. Kiku left the room.
His desk did look like a fireworks celebration, with three blinking red lights and a dozen amber ones. He disposed of urgent matters, brushed off lesser ones, and began to reduce the stack in his basket, signing without bothering to consider whether his signature continued to carry authority.
He was just sustaining a veto on a passport for a very prominent lecturer-the last time the idiot had been off Earth, he had broken into a temple and taken pictures-when Robbins walked in and chucked a paper on his desk. "Here's his resignation. Better see the Secretary General at once."
Mr. Kiku took it. "I shall."
"I didn't want you there when I twisted his arm. It's harder for a man to say 'Uncle' with a witness. You understood?"
"Yes."
"I had to bring up the time we covered up for him about the convention with Kondor."
"Regrettable."
"Don't waste tears. Enough is enough. Now I am going to write the speech he will make before the Council. After that I'll look up the boys he talked to last night and beg them, for the sake of their dear old home planet, to take the proper line on the follow-up story. They won't like it."
"I suppose not."
"But they'll go along. Us humans have got to stick together; we are badly outnumbered."
"So I have always felt. Thanks, Wes."
"A pleasure. Just one thing I didn't mention to him..."
"So?"
"I didn't remind him that the boy's name was John Thomas Stuart. I'm not sure the Martian Commonwealth would have bolted, in view of that one fact, The Council might have sustained Mac, after all and we might have found out whether the Hroshian laddies can do what they say they can."
Kiku nodded. 'I thought of that, too. It didn't seem time to mention it."
"No. There are so many swell places for a man to keep his mouth shut. What are you smiling at?"
"I was thinking," Mr. Kiku explained, "that it is a good thing that the Hroshii do not read our newspapers."
XIV "Destiny? Fiddlesticks!"
Mrs. Stuart did read newspapers. Greenberg had had great trouble persuading her to come to Capital and to bring her son, because he was not free to tell her why. But he did persuade her and she had agreed to go the following morning.
When Greenberg arrived the next morning to pick them up he found himself persona non grata. She was in a white fury and simply shoved the newspaper into his hand. He glanced at it. "Yes? I saw a copy at the hotel. Nonsense, of course."
"That's what I've been trying to tell mother," John Thomas said sullenly, "but she won't listen,"
"John Thomas, you keep quiet. Well, Mr. Greenberg? What have you to say for yourself?"
Greenberg did not have a good answer. He had tried to call Mr. Kiku as soon as he saw the news story and had been told by Mildred that the boss and Mr. Robbins were with, the Secretary and could not be disturbed. He told her that he would call later, realizing uneasily that trouble was not all at his end.
"Mrs. Stuart, surely you know that news reports are often distorted. There has been no talk of hostages and..."
"How can you say that when it says so right there! That's an interview with the Secretary of Space. Who knows more about it? You? Or the Secretary?"
Greenberg had his own opinion but did not dare express it. "Please, Mrs. Stuart. Newspaper stories should not be accepted at face value. This wild report has nothing to do with the case. I am simply asking you to come to Capital for a quiet talk with the Under Secretary."
"Not likely! If the Under Secretary wants to see me, let him come here."
"Madam, he will, if necessary. Mr. Kiku is an old fashioned gentleman who would not ask a lady to come to him were it not for the press of public affairs. You know that there is an interplanetary conference in progress?"
She answered smugly, "I make it a rule never to pay attention to politics."
He sighed. "Some of us must. Mr. Kiku is unable to come here today because of that conference. We had hoped that you, as a private citizen, would come to him."
"Mr. Greenberg, I reluctantly consented. Now I find that you have deceived me. How do I know but what this is a trick? A plot to turn my-son over to those monsters?"
"Ma'am, on my honor as an officer of the Federation I assure you..."
"Spare yourself, Mr. Greenberg. Now, if you will excuse me.. ."
"Mrs. Stuart, I beg you. If you will only..."
"Mr. Greenberg, do not force me to be rude to a guest. But I have nothing more to say."
Greenberg left. He looked around, intending to bring the boy into the argument, but John Thomas had quietly left. Greenberg went back to his hotel, with no intention of returning to Capital with mission incomplete but judging it useless to argue until she had time to simmer down.
He had his taxi driver drop him on the hotel roof in order to avoid reporters, but a man was waiting there, armed with an interview phone. "Half a mo', Mr. Commissioner. My name's Hovey. How about a few words on Secretary MacClure's announcement?"
"No comment."
"In other words you agree with it?"
"No comment."
"Then you disagree?"
"No comment. I'm in a hurry." This was true; he was anxious to call in and find out what in the name of blue blazing galaxies had happened.