Astounding British Edition, Vol. 9, No. 7 — page 57: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

FOR THE GLORY OF AGON | eyed ambassadors run home and tell the truth! The rest is inevitable.” “The Federation will still defeat them,” Ran declared quietly. “The first surrender was a fluke. We succeeded because they were foolish enough to allow three Earth-people to approach them with the Rationalizer. This time they'll keep their distance and lob death at us from somewhere out in space.” The turbine car slid smoothly into the landing flat. Brad and Ran entered the dome of the Earth-colony through the public vapor germicider. In the recon- structed atmosphere of the city, Brad re- moved his oxygen mask; the fragile Martian slipped a filter over his gill disk to reduce his intake of air to the less heady Martian mixture. Ran went to his apartment in the second-level Martian sector; Brad took the lift to the top level of the city, where the luxury hotels were built on winding boulevards beneath the transparent city dome. Brad was traveling on a Governmental Institute expense account, or he could not have afforded a suite in the Royal Martian. Ran could have been there, too, but he preferred the comforts of the Martian sector when he was on his native planet. No other Institute would have provided luxury accommodations, but the Governmental Institute was the oldest of all the Agencies and its standards were thoroughly encrusted with the diplomatic heritage of the past. As the blue, plastic door slid open before Brad, the telescreen began to flicker insistently. He snapped down the recognition lever; the thin face of the - Martian operator came into focus. “Mr. Howard Brad?” “Speaking.” “We have an Earth-call, Mr. Brad.” “Put it through.” Brad dropped on the arm of a lounge and pulled out a cigarette, while he watched the six-armed dexterity of the Martian operator. Brad was still a young man, tall, slim and intelligent. His face mirrored a deep-seated conscientiousness and the harassed frown of a man who had —— successfully completed the tortuous train- ing of the Governmental Institute. High cheekbones and dark eyes gave his face nn a slightly Oriental appearance; his thick, ‘ wiry mass of yellow hair clung like an unkempt crown to his head. The rectangular view of the Martian transmission station faded from the screen and Brad looked into the Communications Center of the Assembly building in London. A young under-secretary addres- — sed him. “Is your report completed, Brad?” “T can give you an interim, but I'd rather—” “We want a full official.” “In person?” “Tomorrow. We’re calling in both you and Ran. You’re scheduled to address the Assembly tomorrow afternoon.” “You'll notify the Martian?” “There’s a call in for him; he'll get it as soon as he comes in. You can both take the night sleeper, I think.” If Brad had not been so carefully schooled in the manners of diplomacy, he might have gushed his gratitude, No- thing could have suited his purposes better than this unexpected opportunity to ap- pear before the Solar Assembly. He was well aware that the Assembly, staffed by senior diplomats elected out of the full body of Governmental Institute men, was an exasperatingly deliberate organization. It could seldom be moved to hasty action, even by an overwhelming array of specific social data. | And this was not the time for delibera- tion! Somehow Brad must find words to convey to them the sense of imminent danger that he felt himself; somehow he must make them see that this foolishly idealistic ambassadorship of the Cen- taurian colony had destroyed the Federa- tion’s only defense. | Brad dialed a light supper, which a silently efficient hotel robot served in his room. The food Brad ordered was a sweet, synthetic protein, which his body could convert into energy within half an hour. It was the prescribed pre-flight meal, de- signed to mitigate the acceleration nausea. Brad swallowed the gelatine with a frown of distaste; he had never become used to EOmMmIGchdoo S ((0)