Jonnie felt they were being criticized in some way. “We can build others.” He meant it to mean, don't try to steal this one for we can replace it fast enough.

But the small gray man positively beamed with joy. He stepped down and looked quickly about. “We really must hurry. Is there an authorized representative of the planetary government here?”

“That would be Sir Robert,” said Jonnie, indicating him.

“Do you have the power to sign on behalf of your government?” asked the small gray man, crisply.

There was a delay. Sir Robert took his communicator out of their hearing and was quickly in communication with Chief of Clanfearghus in embattled Edinburgh. They were going through their communicators in Pali. Chief of Clanfearghus said he didn't see why not since they were the original government and there was no other.

The small gray man called over, “Record his brief statement in clear, if you please. We must have nothing irregular. Nothing that won't stand up in court or litigation.”

They didn't like to put it out on the air so Chief of Clanfearghus said it in the Gaelic language and they recorded it.

The small gray man was all business. He took the recording and said, “Do you have any money? Galactic credits, I mean.”

Well, usually one or another of them had Galactic credits they had taken off dead Psychlos as souvenirs. But Jonnie's pouch had been ruined and Angus was carrying only his tool kit and Robert the Fox had never bothered to pick any up. But the communicator Quong went tearing around to guards and came back in a moment with a one-hundred-credit bank note the guard said Sir Robert could have and welcome.

“Oh, dear,” said the small gray man. “We are so rushed I should have been more explicit. Five hundred credits is the minimum amount.”

Jonnie knew where there were probably several hundred thousand of them– in Ker's baggage! But that was all the way up at Lake Victoria. There were about two million more in a safe but that wasn't here either.

Quong went tearing around to the pilots. Bull's-eye! They had been taking them off pilots they had shot down. One had a five-hundred-credit note, six one-hundred-credit notes.... Sir Robert could have them, yes indeed.

“Ah, twelve hundred credits!” said the small gray man. He had been making out a card form. “And what is your title?” he asked Sir Robert.

"War Chief of Scotland."

“Ah, no. Shall we just put down here 'Duly Authorized and Empowered Signatory.' And here at the top we will put 'Provisional Government of the Planet Earth.' Date.... Address, Call Number...no, we can just leave those as they have no legal value. Please sign here at the bottom.”

Sir Robert signed.

The small gray man meanwhile had extracted a small pad from his pocket. He opened it and wrote “Provisional Government of the Planet Earth” inside the cover. And then he wrote on the top line of the next page: "C 1,200” and his initials, and handed it to Sir Robert. “Here is your passbook. Keep it in a safe place and do not lose it.” He shook hands.

The small gray man drew a long sigh. Then he became brisk again. He turned over the lapel of his gray jacket and said something into a button-sized radio.

The guard post outside said into the intercom to them, “The top lights on his ship just went blue.”

Quong said, “His radio signal is saying now, 'Local conference. Do not interrupt.'

The small gray man beamed at them, rubbing his hands to get her in small quick motions. “Now that you are a customer, I can give you advice. And my first advice is act fast!'

He was hauling a book out of his inside pocket. It said “Address Book” on it in Psychlo. “Cast to these addresses as quickly as possible. We will give the belligerents priority. The first would be Hockner...home planet Hockner...coordinates...coordinates...yes: Fountain Garden in front of imperial Palace.... Basic coordinates are...” He rattled off a series of numbers and Angus hastily scribbled them down. They were in the same order as Terl's huge book of planets.

Angus said, suspiciously, “Can you operate a console?”

The small gray man shook his head vigorously. “Oh, dear no. Good heavens no, much less build one! I just have the addresses!”

Then he noticed that Angus was about to bring the coordinates up to date with a pen and sheets of paper. “Goodness gracious! Don't you have a coordinate computer? This would take forever by hand! We haven't any time!”

He lifted the lapel but before he spoke he looked for permission to Sir Robert. “Can I have one of my crew bring in a computer? I’ll also need the red boxes. Could you send out a guard to escort him in and back out? It won't explode and I’m here.”

Sir Robert nodded and the small gray man rattled off something into his lapel radio and a guard raced out. The small gray man waited quite impatiently. But he patted the side of the console housing and beamed. “Quite ornamental. Usually they are so plain, you know.”

A gray-uniformed crew member raced in with the guard and deposited a rather impressive computer in the small gray man's hands, laid down a stack of what appeared to be red cardboard, and was escorted out.

With a deft, repeated flick of his hand, the small gray man was working a ratchet on the right side of the computer. They could see different keyboards appearing and disappearing. He overshot and came back one.

“Now here is a coordinate computer,” he said, laying it down before Angus. “You feed in the exact firing time on these keys here. It must be the actual moment you will press your firing switch. Then you feed it whether it is just 'cast' or 'cast and recall' or 'exchange' on these buttons here. And then you simply punch in the universe and the eight basic coordinates of time zero on the table on these keys here. Quite simple. You may have this one as a new-accounts gift. I have several. Now let's see. I imagine we can begin firing by twenty-two hundred, sidereal, base universe.” He looked at his watch. “That is in eight minutes. A cast requires about two minutes. We have thirty casts to do. We will call in the basic civilized nations and omit Psychlo which makes twenty– nine, but we will add Lord Voraz-good gracious, I hope he is not in bed. That will take an hour. Then we will wait three hours and do a ‘cast and recall.' That will take six minutes each– we will make it easy on them so they won't arrive upset and cross– which is three hours. So in about seven hours, plus a little organizing time, you should be able to get them here.”

He was quite out of breath. He grabbed a stack of cards that sat on the red stack of cardboard and shoved them at Sir Robert. “Just sign each one at the bottom and I’ll fill in the rest. Let me have them as fast as you sign.”

Sir Robert looked at the form. It was all in Psychlo:

URGENT

You are courteously requested to send an authorized

minister with powers plenipotentiary in all matters

relating to political and military relationships

with other races and with powers to negotiate and

arrange final and binding treaties. His person is

guaranteed and any effort to hold him as a hostage

shall result in his immediate revocation of all

agreements and his instant suicide.

Appear _______ hours at place of arrival.

TO: __________________________________

CONFERENCE PLACE: _______________________________

DURATION OF CONFERENCE AT MINISTERIAL DISCRETION.

PLANET NAME: __________________________________

ATMOSPHERE OF PLANET: ____________________________