Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction February 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. THE OUTBREAK ... PEACE THE OUTBREAK OF PEACE By H. B. FYFE Illustrated by van Dongen _When properly conducted, a diplomatic mission can turn the most smashing of battle-successes into a fabulous Pyrrhic victory._ * * * * * It was a great pity, Space Marshal Wilbur Hennings reflected, as he gazed through the one-way glass of the balcony door, that the local citizens had insisted upon decorating the square before their capitol with the hulk of the first spaceship ever to have landed on Pollux V. A hundred and fifty years probably seemed impressive to them, amid the explosive spread of Terran colonies and federations. Actually, in the marshal's opinion, it was merely long enough to reveal such symbols as more than antiquated but less than historically precious. "I presume you plan to have me march past that heap!" he complained, tugging at the extremely "historical" sword that completed the effect of his dazzling white and gold uniform. Commodore Miller, his aide, stiffened nervously. "Around to the right of it, sir," he gestured. "As you see, the local military are already keeping the route clear of onlookers. We thought it would be most impressive if your party were to descend the outer stairway from the palace balcony here ... to heighten the importance of--" "To draw out the pomp and circumstance of opening the conference?" "Well, sir ... and then across the square to the conference hall of the capitol, outside which you will pause for a few gracious words to the crowd--" "And that will probably be my last opportunity to enjoy the morning sunlight. Oh, well, it seems much too bright here in any case." The commodore absently reached out to adjust a fold of his chief's sky-blue sash, and the marshal as absently parried the gesture. "I shall be hardly less than half an hour crossing the square," he predicted sourly. "With the cheering throngs they have undoubtedly arranged, and the sunlight reflecting from all that imitation marble, it will be no place to collect one's thoughts." * * * * * He turned back to the huge chamber constituting the "office" of the suite supplied by his Polluxian hosts. The skeleton staff of men and women remaining occupied chairs and benches along only one wall, since the bulk of the delegation had been sent out to make themselves popular with the local populace.