"—which will place us in an excellent position, propaganda-wise.
"What a pity I can't go," the Military Attache said. "But my place is with my troops."
"The only troops you've got are the Assistant Attache and your secretary," Magnan pointed out.
"Say, I'd like to be down there in the thick of things," the Political Officer said. He assumed a grave expression. "But of course I'll be needed here, to interpret results."
"I appreciate your attitude, gentlemen," Sternwheeler said, studying the ceiling. "But I'm afraid I must limit the privilege of volunteering for this hazardous duty to those officers of more robust physique, under forty years of age—"
"Tsk. I'm forty-one," Magnan said.
"—and with a reputation for adaptability." His glance moved along the table.
"Do you mind if I run along now, Mr. Ambassador?" Retief said. "It's time for my insulin shot."
Sternwheeler's mouth dropped open.
"Just kidding," Retief said. "I'll go. But I have one request, Mr. Ambassador: no further communication with the ground until I give the all-clear."