"We'll have them there in seven—no, six minutes."
"Right. And send along construction men with them. I'm building a trap for a killer who thinks he's clever." I didn't add I hope, but I thought it.
I was sure that there would be no slip-ups. I'd been picked for my ability to outguess and out-think anyone and everyone who might try to hurt the Galactic Government, and so far, I'd succeeded; the Government itself had withstood everything sent against it.
Still, there had been slip-ups before. The security network protecting President Deller had failed badly when a Damakoi assassin smuggled himself into the Golden Palace. A meeting of the Solar Subcouncil had been bombed two years before despite the most painstaking precautions. There was no way of being absolutely sure—I could only do my best. After all, the Damakoi weren't stupid—fanatic maniacs, yes, but not stupid.
I carefully checked the loading of my blaster, just in case I'd need it. Then I called Ned in and gave him his orders. Ned repeated them and then said: "I hope you're right, Chief."
"So do I," I agreed. "But it's the only way to handle the Damakoi."
"That planet's a plague spot," Ned said bitterly. "We ought to send the Galactic Fleet in there with a half-dozen good-sized planet wrecking bombs, and get rid of every damned one of them once and for all."
"You're being hasty, Ned," I said. "That would be genocide, the one thing that every race fears more than anything else. The Galactic Government would fall within a week after such an order was given."
"I know it; it was just wishful thinking."
"We'll get it under inter-planetary control," I told him. "That's the sort of thing the Grand Council is working on right now. Once the proper laws are passed, we'll have Damak under our thumb and force them to be law-abiding citizens. That's why they're so anxious to blow up the Capitol before anything definite is done."