"And keep the recorder on. You can file the tape later."
"Yes, sir."
Malloy knew the woman would listen in on the intercom anyway, and it was better to give her permission to do so.
James Nordon was tall, broad-shouldered, and thirty-eight. His hair was graying at the temples, and his handsome face looked cool and efficient.
Malloy waved him to a seat.
"Nordon, I have a job for you. It's probably one of the most important jobs you'll ever have in your life. It can mean big things for you—promotion and prestige if you do it well."
Nordon nodded slowly. "Yes, sir."
Malloy explained the problem of the Karna peace talks.
"We need a man who can outthink them," Malloy finished, "and judging from your record, I think you're that man. It involves risk, of course. If you make the wrong decisions, your name will be mud back on Earth. But I don't think there's much chance of that, really. Do you want to handle small-time operations all your life? Of course not.
"You'll be leaving within an hour for Saarkkad V."