"You'll see. Keep an eye on the telefax. I'll bet the next edition of Citizen is going to be interesting."
It was.
The glossy sheets of the 1200 Citizen extruded themselves from a million receivers in the New York area, but none of those million copies was as avidly pounced on as was Director Walton's. He had been hovering near the wall outlet for ten minutes, avidly awaiting the sheet's arrival.
And he was not disappointed.
The streamer headline ran:
THINGS FROM SPACE NIX BIG POPEEK PLAN
And under it in smaller type:
Greenskinned Uglies Put Feet In Director Walton's Big Mouth
He smiled grimly and went on to the story itself. Written in the best approved Citizen journalese, it read: