"I didn't think so myself," said Dale Vernon, the slim little man. "If Dic hadn't been there right on schedule, there'd be nothing left of me but a few bloody shreds. Those people were mad!" His voice showed respect for the strength of their emotions. "What's the news?"
"The Park monitors found the real Lund about twenty minutes ago."
"Good timing. Any sooner, and the fun upstairs would have been different."
"And you know who is screaming for the dissolving of the Conference."
"So soon?"
"They, uh, you might say had an inside lead as to what was going to happen."
"It's a little early to tell," added the other man, "but apparently the operation was a success. The proper wheels have been set in motion, at least. We'll have to keep applying grease from time to time in the next forty-eight hours, but I think we can forget about the Ehrlan problem—during this conference, at least. Ten years from now, they'll have an entirely different set of plans for the reformation of the galaxy. And we'll have to come up with an entirely different way of crossing them."
"Do-gooders!" snorted the first man.
"You must admit, they have the best of intentions," said Vernon.