Touchdown, Touchdown, Rah, Rah, Rah!

“That’s the UN’s motto, too,” Ray said. He thought for a moment as he worked liniment into her sides. Stick together. What if the UN didn’t stick together? And—what was that smug comment Nyquist had made? Something about trying to benefit from the UN’s advice. Yes. Things clicked. “I’ve got an idea.”

She sighed happily. “I’m half-naked and you’ve got your hands all over me. Of course you’ve got an idea.”

“OK, so I’ve got two ideas,” Ray said, feeling encouraged by her words. “That economist, what’s-her-name—”

“Grace Carver.”

“—do you think she’d mind working as a part-time consultant for a kya firm?”

“When she’s feeling better.” Elizabeth turned over and looked at him. “Why? What have you got in mind?”

“A way to hoist Nyquist on his own petard. And make a profit. That’s three ideas.”

“One idea at a time,” she said. “What are you going to do to Nyquist?”

“Blackmail him,” Ray said. “Would you say Nyquist has good intentions?”

“Well—yes.”

“Of course. So does the UN. He’s the worst kind of do-gooder—the sort who thinks his intentions are all that matters. But if we can threaten to make him look bad at the UN, we can stop him cold. And I know just how to do it. I’ll just need the cooperation of Jones and a few kya.”

“Good.” She turned over, reached up and started unbuttoning his shirt. “Now let’s hear about your first idea.”

* * *

Ray visited Ghorf’s office the next morning, and spoke to one of the people in his office. “Having just left to, er, inspect one of our farms, Ghorf isn’t here,” the kya said. “Being Zhlah, his secretary, I’m authorized to discuss business with you.”

“ ‘His secretary’?” Ray repeated. It worried him that Ghorf wouldn’t see him. No doubt about it, the executive was avoiding him. “Well, let’s talk. Applying Earth technology to your farms, I wanted to talk about a problem this may create.”

Zhlah sniffed in puzzlement. “Being a good thing, how can increased productivity be a problem?”

“Easy,” Ray said. “Suppose you suddenly have twice as many crops to sell. What happens to prices and profits?”

Zhlah sniffed again, this time thoughtfully. “I catch the scent. There’s a glut and the market stampedes over the nearest cliff. Saying this, do you think we should break the contract with Moskva Mnogo-whatever?”

“No,” Ray said. “We humans have had similar problems. Having an expert on economics working at Vrekle, you might want to consult with her on possible courses of action. She may see a way for you to increase production and profits without importing some expensive technology.”

Zhlah’s ears pricked up at that. “Hearing that, I’d like to discuss things with her. I must say, it’s good of you to think so much of our needs.”

“Well, it isn’t all my idea,” Ray said. “A lot of the credit has to go to Ambassador Nyquist.”

“The Ambassador?” Zhlah exhaled rudely. “He’s been nothing but trouble.”

“It only seems that way, Zhlah.” Ray smiled as he prepared the ambassador for a fall. “I’d say he’s really interested in helping Kya, despite his orders from the UN. To be honest, he was the one who warned me to look into the consequences of our business arrangements, and to pay attention to our planet’s experience in such matters.”

“Indeed?”

“Indeed,” Ray agreed. “If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t be talking right now. He may have turned a potentially disastrous situation into one that will profit all of us.” Ray smiled at his own careful misstatements of the truth.

“Hearing this, I’d say we were wrong about the fellow,” Zhlah said. “Hearing that, Ghorf will be happy.”

“I’m sure,” Ray said. “Would Ghorf mind saying that to a reporter? You see—er, you scent, the ambassador is in a bit of trouble back home, and it would help all of us if the folks on Earth knew what a help he’s been.”

“A human reporter?” Zhlah sniffed uncomfortably. “Well—Ghorf being busy, it isn’t convenient. Being his closest-following assistant, would I do?”

Ray smiled again. “Yes, you’ll do nicely.”

* * *

“You’re cutting this close,” Jones said. She checked her watch as Ray led her and her cameraman to the UN embassy’s front entrance. “The game starts in three hours. That barely gives us enough time to get back to Vrekle.”

“I know,” Ray said. He clutched his notepad in much the same way that an ancient tribesman might hold a magic talisman. “But we can’t leave Nyquist any time to react.”

They entered the lobby, where De-lores sat working behind her desk. “Go away,” she said without looking up.

“We can’t do that,” Jones said. “I’m here to interview the ambassador. I’ve already had several kya testify about his activities, and I thought I’d give him a chance to comment.”

Delores glowered at Ray. “You’re behind this, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he said. “Why don’t you let the ambassador know we re here?”

Delores thought for a second, then flicked her thumb at a door. “You can wait for Mr. Nyquist in his office. Alone.”

Ray glanced at Jones and the cameraman, then gave in. He entered the office, took one of the ornate seats in front of the expansive oak desk, and waited.