"For instance?"
"Well, for instance she learns that you can rig up a hypnotic ray from a flashlight battery, a piece of bamboo, and a few lengths of wire. That'll get Ali in an awful sweat. He can't get weapons. None at all. And for the Sultan," Trimmer was warming up to his intrigue, chewing on his cigar with gusto, "tell her you're on to a catalyst that turns clay into aluminum and oxygen in the presence of sunlight. The Sultan would sell his right leg for something like that. He tries hard for Singhalût and Cirgamesç."
"And Ali?"
Trimmer hesitated. "I never said what I'm gonna say. Don't forget—I never said it."
"Okay, you never said it."
"Ever hear of a jehad?"
"Mohammedan holy wars."
"Believe it or not, Ali wants a jehad."
"Sounds kinda fantastic."
"Sure it's fantastic. Don't forget, I never said anything about it. But suppose someone—strictly unofficial, of course—let the idea percolate around the Peace Office back home."