Garlock flung the door wide. Bundy rushed in, followed by a more-or-less steady stream of some fifty other top-bracket newspeople, both men and women.
"Well, Garlock, perhaps you will give us some screens-down facts?" Bundy asked, angrily.
"I'll give you all the screens-down...."
"Clee!" "You're crazy!" "You can't!" "Don't!" Belle and all the Operators protested at once.
Ignoring the objections, Garlock cut his shield to half and gave the whole group a true account of everything that had happened in the galaxy. Then, while they were all too stunned to speak, a grin of saturnine amusement spread over his dark, five-o'clock-shadowed face.
"You pestiferous gnats insisted on grabbing the ball," he sneered. "Now let's see you run with it."
Bundy came out of his trance. "What a story!" he yelled. "We'll plaster it...."
"Yeah," Garlock said, dryly. "What a story. Exactly."
"Oh." Bundy deflated suddenly. "You'll have to prove it—demonstrate it—of course."