We would appreciate prompt attention to this detail. Otherwise, in the interest of our people, we shall feel compelled to seek satisfaction elsewhere.
Respectfully yours,
Titus McWorther,
Potentate
Hoverly tossed the message on his desk, punched the audio-com button and called for his assistant. When Mallston arrived, the undersecretary was still pacing.
"Did you take care of the McWorther World aid consignment?" he asked.
Mallston nodded. "Delivery should have been made day before yesterday. Full Class A schedule."
"Well, it wasn't enough!" Hoverly extended a stiff finger toward the space-o-gram. "Read that."
Looking up finally, Mallston said, "Evidently we dropped the ball."
"Indeed we did. Ambassador Summerson must have promised the Potentate the whole works."
Hoverly resumed pacing. "I should have guessed as much. President Roswell only last week hinted that the Western Cluster should level its galactic commerce sights on that entire sector."
Mallston pondered the gravity of the space-o-gram. "Maybe we should lay the McWorther development before the President."