* * * * * On Base Q, in the I.C. room, the Commander watched the tank. Curt orders designated new target areas as the enemy fleet broke up under the whiplash. Slowly, one by one, the points of light that marked the enemy vanished, leaving only the void. Finally, as must any fleet that faces annihilation, they turned and fled. The battle was over. All that remained was to give the orders to bring the flights home. And that was soon done. The Commander got up. He stretched. He was tired. He glanced at the clock. Two hours and forty minutes. Very quick, indeed, as space battles usually went. But, then, he thought grimly, this had been the first battle ever fought under the whiplash of Plan K. But, now, there was a report to be made. And he did not know how to do it. As he walked back wearily to his office, he tried out phrases in his mind. None seemed to fit. His aide was bending over the facsimile machine as he came in. "Priority orders from the General Staff, just coming in, sir." The Commander looked at the machine. "General Staff to Commander, Base Q, Urgent, Immediate Action," he read. "You are hereby advised that a protocol has been signed at Washington, D.C., with representatives of the Combine, revising the Treaty of Porran to the extent that Base Q shall be jointly administered by yourself and the Commander, Fourth Fleet, Jupiterian Combine, until such time as its further dispensation shall have been agreed. You will, therefore, admit said Fleet upon demand, permitting it to take up such stations as it may desire, in either zone, or to land, in whole or in part, and to disembark such of its personnel as its commanding officer may direct. You will make arrangements with its commanding officer for the joint administration of the base. You will be held responsible for the smooth operation and successful accomplishment of this undertaking. These orders are effective immediately." Commander Morgan smiled. "Send this reply immediately," he said to his aide. "Open code. Commander, Base Q, to General Staff, Highest urgency. Acknowledge receipt recent orders regarding protocol revising Treaty of Porran. Regret unable to comply. Due to recent argument over interpretation of Treaty of Porran, Fourth Fleet, Combine, no longer exists. Request further orders." He laughed. On earth, the officer who took the message gaped at it. Seizing a telephone, he dictated it to the Old Man's aide. But when the Old Man saw it, he only smiled, coldly. And his smile was bleak and cold, too, when he laid it before the President and the Cabinet an hour later. Shortly afterwards, when the President broadcast it to the people, they sat, stunned. It was not until the next day that they finally read its significance and started celebrating. But the Old Man had ceased smiling by that time, and was planning possible future battles. * * * * *