"Sorry I wasn't here when you arrived, Mr. Silk," Parros said. "Out checking on some things. But I saw that bit of shooting, on the telecast screen in a bar over town. You know, there was a camera right over the bandstand that caught the whole thing--you and Miss Hickock coming toward the President and his party, Miss Hickock running forward to her father, the waiter going up behind Hutchinson with the knife, and then that beautiful draw and snap shot. They ran it again a couple of times on the half-hourly newscast. Everybody in New Austin, maybe on New Texas, is talking about it, now." "Yes, indeed, sir," Gomez, the Embassy Secretary, said, joining us. "You've made yourself more popular in the eight hours since you landed than poor Mr. Cumshaw had been able to do in the ten years he spent here. But, I'm afraid, sir, you've given me a good deal of work, answering your fan-mail." We went over and sat down at one of the big tables under the arches at the side of the patio. "Well, that's all to the good," I said. "I'm going to need a lot of local good will, in the next few weeks. No thanks, Mr. Parros," I added, as the Intelligence man picked up a bottle and made to pour for me. "I've been practically swimming in superbourbon all afternoon. A little black coffee, if you don't mind. And now, gentlemen, if you'll all be seated, we'll see what has to be done." "A council of war, in effect, Mr. Ambassador?" Stonehenge inquired. "Let's call it a council to estimate the situation. But I'll have to find out from you first exactly what the situation here is." Thrombley stirred uneasily. "But sir, I confess that I don't understand. Your briefing on Luna...." "Was practically nonexistent. I had a total of six hours to get aboard ship, from the moment I was notified that I had been appointed to this Embassy." "Incredible!" Thrombley murmured. I wondered what he'd say if I told him that I thought it was deliberate. "Naturally, I spent some time on the ship reading up on this planet, but I know practically nothing about what's been going on here in, say, the last year. And all I know about the death of Mr. Cumshaw is that he is said to have been killed by three brothers named Bonney." "So you'll want just about everything, Mr. Silk," Thrombley said. "Really, I don't know where to begin." "Start with why and how Mr. Cumshaw was killed. The rest, I believe, will key into that." So they began; Thrombley, Stonehenge and Parros doing the talking. It came to this: Ever since we had first established an Embassy on New Texas, the goal of our diplomacy on this planet had been to secure it into the Solar League. And it was a goal which seemed very little closer to realization now than it had been twenty-three years before. "You must know, by now, what politics on this planet are like, Mr. Silk," Thrombley said. "I have an idea. One Ambassador gone native, another gone crazy, the third killed himself, the fourth murdered."