"Everything," Nolan said uncomfortably. "The Coms take over a country. They march in. There are rich people and poor people. The Coms start to humiliate and destroy the rich. The poor people hated them. So the Coms are popular long enough to get things going right. But if they tried that in our country--" "It wouldn't work," said the skipper. "Not for a minute." "It wouldn't," agreed Nolan. "Most of our people think of themselves as well to do, and the rest can hope to become so. So the Coms would have to try to govern two hundred million indignant and subversive underground resisters. They couldn't hold down such a country. They wouldn't try!" The skipper blinked. "If you mean they'd leave our country alone--" "I don't," said Nolan. "They'd destroy it. They'd have to. So they might as well destroy it out of hand and destroy most of the fighting potential and a lot of resolution in the West. A well handled atomic-missile bombardment and some luck, and they could take over the rest of the world without trouble. I think that's the practical thing for them to do. I think they'll do it if they can." The skipper grimaced. Then he said, almost ashamedly: "Maybe we're talking nonsense, Nolan. Maybe we've just got bad cases of nerves. Maybe things have gotten better since we left. We could arrive back home and find nobody even dreaming of war any more!" "That," said Nolan, "would scare me to death. That would be the time to make a sneak attack!" Which was pessimism. But nothing else seemed justified. It was not even easy to be hopeful about the value of the fifth-planet weapon to the Western Defensive Alliance. The WDA couldn't use it in a preventive war. Their people wouldn't allow it. The initiative would always remain with the Coms. The _Lotus_ moved Earthward. She carried a more deadly instrument for war than men had ever dreamed of. But the ship's company daily jittered a little more violently. The war might have been fought and be over by now. If it had, the Coms would have won it. * * * * * The Coordinator for the WDA handed the Com Ambassador his passport. "I'm sorry you've been recalled," he said heavily, "Because I think I see the meaning of the move." "I am only called home for conference and instructions," said the Ambassador politely. "I shall miss our friendly chats. We have had a very fine personal relationship, though we have disagreed so often." The Coordinator absently shifted objects on his desk. He said suddenly: "Mr. Ambassador, have I ever lied to you?" The Ambassador raised his eyebrows. Then he smiled. "Never!" he said pleasantly. "I have marveled!" The Coordinator took a quick, sharp breath. "I shall not lie now," he said abruptly. "I hope you will believe me, Mr. Ambassador, when I tell you one of our best-kept military secrets." The Ambassador blinked and then shrugged politely. "You always astonish me," he said mildly.