Stranger in a Strange Land

«I follow you.» The Secretary General stared at Harshaw. «Please wait.» He left the screen.

Harshaw motioned Larry to him while his other hand covered the sound pickup. «Look, son,» he whispered, «with that transceiver out I'm bluffing on a busted flush. I don't know whether he left to issue that release… or has gone to set the dogs on us again. You high-tail out, get Tom Mackenzie on another phone, tell him that if he doesn't get the setup working, he's going to miss the biggest story since the Fall of Troy. Then be careful coming home — there may be cops.»

«How do I call Mackenzie?»

«Uh — » Douglas was back on screen. «Speak to Miriam.»

«Dr. Harshaw, I took your suggestion. A release much as you worded it . . . plus substantiating details.» Douglas smiled in his homespun persona. «I added that the administration will discuss interplanetary relations with the Man from Mars — as soon as he had rested from his trip — and would do so publicly …quite publicly.» His smile became chilly and he stopped looking like good old Joe Douglas.

Harshaw grinned in admiration — why, the old thief had rolled with the punch and turned a defeat into a coup for the administration. «That's perfect, Mr. Secretary! We'll back you right down the line!»

«Thank you. Now about this Caxton person — Letting the press in does not apply to him. He can watch it over stereovision and make up his lies from that. But he will not be present.»

«Then there will be no talks, Mr. Secretary, no matter what you told the press.»

«I don't believe you understand me, Counsellor. This man is offensive to me. Personal privilege.»

«You are correct, sir. It is a matter of personal privilege.»

«Then we'll say no more about it.»

«Youmisunderstand me. It is indeed personal privilege. But not yours. Smith's.»

«Eh?»

«You are privileged to select your advisers — and you can fetch the Devil himself and we shall not complain. Smith is privileged to select his advisers and have them present. If Caxton is not present, we will not be there. We will be at some quite different conference. One where you won't be welcome. Even if you speak Hindi.»

Harshaw thought clinically that a man of Douglas's age should not indulge in rage. At last Douglas spoke — to the Man from Mars.

Mike had stayed on screen, as silently and as patiently as the Witness. Douglas said, «Smith, why do you insist on this ridiculous condition?»

Harshaw said instantly, «Don't answer, Mike!» — then to Douglas: «Tut, tut, Mr. Secretary! The Canons! You may not inquire why my client has instructed me. And the Canons are violated with exceptional grievance in that my client has but lately learned English and cannot hold his own against you. If you will learn Martian, I may permit you to put the question … in his language. But not today.»

Douglas frowned. «I might inquire what Canons you have played fast and loose with — but I haven't time; I have a govemment to run. I yield. But don't expect me to shake hands with this Caxton!»

«As you wish, sir. Now back to the first point, I haven't been able to find Caxton.»

Douglas laughed. «You insisted on a privilege — one I find offensive. Bring whom you like. But round them up yourself.»

«Reasonable, sir. But would you do the Man from Mars a favor?»

«Eh? What favor?»

«Talks will not begin until Caxton is located — that is not subject to argument. But I have not been able to find him. I am merely a private citizen.»

«What do you mean?»

«I spoke disparagingly of the Special Service squadrons — check it off to the irk of a man who has had his door broken down. But I know that they can be amazingly efficient… and they have the cooperation of police forces everywhere. Mr. Secretary, if you were to call in your S.S. Commandant and tell him that you wanted to locate a man at once — well, sir, it would produce more activity in an hour than I could in a century.»

«Why on Earth should I alert police forces everywhere to find one scandal-mongering reporter?»

«Not “on Earth”, my dear sir — on Mars. I ask you this as a favor to the Man from Mars.»

«Well… it's preposterous but I'll go along.» Douglas looked at Mike. «As a favor to Smith. I expect similar cooperation when we get down to cases.»

«You have my assurance that it will ease the situation enor mously.»

«Well, I can't promise anything. You say the man is missing. He may have fallen in front of a truck, he may be dead.»

Harshaw looked grave. «Let us hope not, for all our sakes.»

«What do you mean?»

«I've tried to point out that possibility to my client — but he won't listen to the idea.» Harshaw sighed. «A shambles, sir. If we can't find this Caxton, that is what we will have: a shambles.»

«Well… I'll try. Don't expect miracles, Doctor.»

«Not I, sir. My client. He has the Martian viewpoint… and does expect miracles. Let's pray for one.»

«You'll hear from me. That's all I can say.»

Harshaw bowed without getting up. «Your servant, sir.»