"My name is Welnicki," the ambassador said, rising. "Captain Stephen Wel-nicki."
"Oh, forgive me, Captain Welnicki. General Cobb—but there, poor man, you're tired and I won't keep you. Will you and your aides attend an informal dinner tonight with my cabinet officers?"
"Yes ... delighted...."
The minister of the interior skipped along apologizing prettily for the crude furniture. She was Wandrew Fishdollar, call her Wanda, and she would see him again at dinner. His bedroom was also the Fishdollar National Library.
The ambassador called a council of state. His aides were equally overcome. Who'da thought it? ... all women, all named Fishdollar ... cute as crystals, too ... always liked them Sigma Velorum planets ... hey, Chong, you old goat?...
Dinner ... elfin faces with white skin and black eyes ... short, kilted skirts, sleeveless blouses ... Cindrew, Rondrew, Sandrew, Dundrew ... minister of this, minister of that ... the ambassador was still dazed.
His aides did well. Kihara talked slaggers and nuclear furnaces to the minister of public works—Cindy, was she? Rutledge, expansive, held a group bright eyed and breathless with his account of the volcanic north. Chong was saying, "No offense, General Cobb, but in a fight the marines...." Defense Minister Bondrew listened admiringly.
The ambassador felt better. Born diplomats, these men. That came of roaming the starways ... a cosmoplanetary polish ... charm no provincial could resist—"What did you say, Madame President? My mind wandered."
"Let's take our teacups into the next room where it's quiet. I want to tell you the story of the Fishdollars."