"Yes, sir!" the answer came promptly.
"Directions, pal. Cut in the glide path transmitter now and stick with it until further instructions so that nothing goes wrong."
"Yes, sir. But what's the idea, Silvy?"
"No time to explain now, Portiz! I've work to do!"
Ward snapped off, and immediately reached out for the televisorphone. He dialed Public Service and asked for his good friend Duka Dwane, Venusian utility magnate.
"Duka," he barked after credentialling his way past a Mr. Dwane's-in-conference operator, "this is Silvy Ward of the Authority. There's a Martian destroyer coming in with obvious intentions of bombing Pali. I want you to black out the city immediately."
"But, Silvy, think of the convention," Dwane protested. "I had to give them special fluorescent lighting; they'll be angry if I cut them off!"
"If you don't cut them off this time they'll never be cut off again. Kick that master switch over pronto. The Authority will take all responsibility!"
"Okay," lisped Dwane. "Okay, sharnar!"
Ward cut off wondering if that "sharnar" had meant "friend" or "bigshot"; it meant one thing in Pali and another in Vanyi, the city across the "tracks".