"Early tomorrow," Magnan said. "Or maybe later today."
"Well, I see you're of a mind with me," Nitworth nodded. "Our plan of action is clear, but it remains to be implemented. We have a population of over fifteen million individuals to relocate." He eyed the Political Officer. "I want five proposals for resettlement on my desk by oh-eight-hundred hours tomorrow." Nitworth rapped out instructions. Harried-looking staff members arose and hurried from the room. Magnan eased toward the door.
"Where are you going, Magnan?" Nitworth snapped.
"Since you're so busy, I thought I'd just slip back down to Com Inq. It was a most interesting orientation lecture, Mr. Ambassador. Be sure to let us know how it works out."
"Kindly return to your chair," Nitworth said coldly. "A number of chores remain to be assigned. I think you, Magnan, need a little field experience. I want you to get over to Roolit I and take a look at these Qornt personally."
Magnan's mouth opened and closed soundlessly.
"Not afraid of a few Qornt, are you, Magnan?"
"Afraid? Good lord, no, ha ha. It's just that I'm afraid I may lose my head and do something rash if I go."
"Nonsense! A diplomat is immune to heroic impulses. Take Retief along. No dawdling, now! I want you on the way in two hours. Notify the transport pool at once. Now get going!"
Magnan nodded unhappily and went into the hall.