It was obvious, Walton thought, that the spy pickup which had been planted in his office had been a direct pipe line to the _Citizen_ news desk. They had taken his conversation with McLeod and carefully ground it down into the chatty, informal, colloquial style that made _Citizen_ the world's most heavily-subscribed telefax service. He shuddered at what might have happened if they'd had their spy pickup installed a day earlier, and overheard Walton in the process of suppressing Lamarre's immortality serum. There would have been a lynch mob storming the Cullen Building ten minutes after the _Citizen_ hit the waves with its exposé. Not that he was much better off now. He no longer had the advantage of secrecy to cloak his actions, and public officials who were compelled to conduct business in the harsh light of public scrutiny generally didn't hold their offices for long. He turned the sheet over and searched for the editorial column, merely to confirm his expectations. It was captioned in bold black: _ARE WE PATSIES FOR GREENSKINS?_ And went on to say: _Non-human beings have said "Whoa!" to our plans for opening up a new world in space. These aliens have put thumbs down on colonization of the New Earth discovered by Colonel Leslie McLeod._ _Aside from the question of why Popeek kept word of the McLeod expedition from the public so long, there is this to consider--will we take this lying down?_ _We've got to find space for us to live. New Earth is a good place. The answer to the trouble is easy: we take New Earth. If the greenskins don't like it, bounce 'em!_ _How about it? What do we do? Mr. Walton, we want to know. What goes?_ It was an open exhortation to interstellar warfare. Dispiritedly, Walton let the telefax sheets skitter to the floor, and made no move to pick them up. War with the Dirnans? If _Citizen_ had its way, there would be. The telefax sheet would remorselessly stir the people up until the cry for war was unanimous. _Well_, thought Walton callously, _a good war would reduce the population surplus. The idiots!_ * * * * * He caught the afternoon newsblares. They were full of the _Citizen_ break, and one commentator made a point-blank demand that Walton either advocate war with the Dirnans or resign. Not long afterward, UN delegate Ludwig called. "Some hot action over here today," he told Walton. "After that _Citizen_ thing got out, a few of the Oriental delegates started howling for your scalp on sixteen different counts of bungling. What's going on, Walton?" "Plenty of spy activity, for one thing. The main problem, though, is the nucleus of incompetent assistants surrounding me. I think I'm going to reduce the local population personally before the day is out. With a blunt instrument, preferably." "Is there any truth in the _Citizen_ story?"