Forsythe lit a cigar--a cigarette would have looked like a ladycracker stuck in that enormous face. He said, “That may be so. But we can’t afford to risk it. The Wrights invented the airplane at the turn of the century, and ten years later they were using it to bomb targets in the Second Balkan War.” That, thought Hamilton unhappily, was one of the things that made Forsythe dangerous. Underneath the bullyboy exterior lurked a first-class brain and a vast storehouse of knowledge in unexpected fields. It was, he decided, time to take steps. “Charley,” he said, “I think you know what I am empowered to do if you try this with Ryan. It is clearly stated in the SPR charter that infringement by a national government, or any subject or citizen of such a government, upon the rights of either SPR, or any member thereof, permits us to apply sanctions, either limited or total, according to our judgment. That’s a UN General Assembly provision.” Forsythe looked sleepily amused. “Quite the lawyer, aren’t you, Park? Too bad you aren’t as good an American.” With difficulty Hamilton restrained the sudden surge of anger within him. He said, “Not today, Charley. But if you pull this kidnapping merely to save your own bank account SPR _will_ take action--and we’ll have no trouble getting UN backing.” “Of course you won’t,” said Forsythe, smiling. “But we can’t afford the risk of matter-transmission at this point. We’re willing to fly by the seat of our pants. The UN can’t afford to have you people withdraw your patents from us and put America out of business.” He blew a perfect smoke ring. Miss Alderman emerged from the bedroom. “He’s still out like a light,” she said. “We have an ambulance downstairs,” said Forsythe quietly. “We were going to use it anyway.” Hamilton said, “Naturally, we wouldn’t put America out of business. But we could withdraw your rights to all SPR patents employed in your international carriers. That would hurt _you_. It would force American exporters to use foreign carriers. But it wouldn’t put America or the world out of business.” It was the old, hateful tug of war, the civilized man against the jungle barbarian in thought and deed. Not for the first time, Hamilton felt a sense of shame at his country’s forbearance. As, he supposed, other internationalists must occasionally feel toward their own. Forsythe said, “I hardly have to remind you, Park, that there is strong and growing resentment in certain influential circles against your SPR as a world monopoly that gobbles up all of our finest scientific brains and forces us to pay for their use.” “If you’d paid them well enough to begin with, SPR would never have been formed,” said Hamilton. “Perhaps.” Forsythe shrugged. “But that’s water under the bridge. We shan’t repeat the mistake, I promise you.” “You won’t get the chance,” warned Hamilton.