Barry Watson said, "You're stoned, Kennedy."
"Why not?" Kennedy grinned. "Finally perfected a decent brandy. I'll have to send you a few cases, Barry."
"How would you go about that, Jerry?" Watson said softly.
"Shucks, man, our space lighter makes a trip to Texcoco every month or so. Gotta keep up with you boys. Maybe throw a wrench or so in the works once inna while."
Peter MacDonald said, "Shut up, Jerry. You talk too much."
"Don't talk to me that way. You'll find yourself having one helluva time floating that loan you need next month. How about another drink, everybody? This party's dead."
Watson said, "How about the progress reports? Briefly, we've all but completely united Texcoco. Minor setbacks have sometimes deterred us but the march of progress goes on. We—"
"Minor setbacks," Kennedy chortled. "Must of had to bump off five million of the poor slobs before that commune revolt was finished with."
Watson said coldly, "We always have a few reactionaries, religious fanatics, misfits, crackpots, malcontents to deal with. However, these are not important. Our industrial potential has finally begun to roll. We doubled steel production this year, will do the same next. Our hydro-electric installations tripled in the past two years. Coal production is four times higher, lumber production six times. We expect to increase grain harvest forty per cent next season. And—"
The Honorable Modrin put in gently, "Please, Honorable Watson, your percentage figures are impressive only if we know from what basis you start. If you produced but five million tons of steel last year, then your growth to ten million is very good but it is still not a considerable amount for an entire planet."