"I must confirm part of the story the telefax carried today: the Dirnans are definitely not anxious to have Earth set up a colony on a world adjoining theirs. We are strangers to them, and their reaction is understandable. After all, suppose a race of strange-looking creatures landed on Mars, and proceeded with wholesale colonization of our neighboring world? We'd be uneasy, to say the least. "And so the Dirnans are uneasy. However, I've summoned a Dirnan ambassador--our first diplomatic contact with intelligent alien creatures!--and I hope he'll be on Earth shortly. I plan to convince him that we're peaceful, neighborly people, and that it will be to our mutual benefit to allow Earth colonization in the Procyon system. "I'm going to need your help. If, while our alien guest is here, he discovers that some misguided Earthmen are demanding war with Dirna, he's certainly not going to think of us as particularly desirable neighbors to welcome with open arms. I want to stress the importance of this. Sure, we can go to war with Dirna for possession of Procyon VIII. But why spread wholesale destruction on two worlds when we can probably achieve our goal peacefully? "That's all I have to say tonight, people of the world. I hope you'll think about what I've told you. Popeek works twenty-four hours a day in your behalf, but we need your full cooperation if we're going to achieve our aims and bring humanity to its full maturity. Thank you." * * * * * The floodlights winked out suddenly, leaving Walton momentarily blinded. When he opened his eyes again he saw the cameramen moving their bulky apparatus out of the office quickly and efficiently. The regular programs had returned to the channels--the vapid dancing and joke-making, the terror shows, the kaleidowhirls. Now that it was over, now that the tension was broken, Walton experienced a moment of bitter disillusionment. He had had high hopes for his speech, but had he really put it over? He wasn't sure. He glanced up. Lee Percy stood over him. "Roy, can I say something?" Percy said diffidently. "Go ahead," Walton said. "I don't know how many millions I forked over to put you on the media tonight, but I know one thing--we threw a hell of a lot of money away." Walton sighed wearily. "Why do you say that?" "That speech of yours," Percy said, "was the speech of an amateur. You ought to let pros handle the big spiels, Roy." "I thought you liked the impromptu thing I did when they mobbed that Herschelite. How come no go tonight?" Percy shook his head. "The speech you made outside the building was different. It had emotion; it had punch! But tonight you didn't come across at all." "No?" "I'd put money behind it." Acidly Percy said, "You can't win the public opinion by being reasonable. You gave a nice smooth speech. Bland ... folksy. You laid everything on the line where they could see it."