In the Martian Legation Building, Olduk faced his seven associates.
"It is done," he said, in the Martian dialect of his native state. "The Earthmen have chosen their hell and will soon experience it. You have your tickets? Then go at once."
The youngest of the attaches said pleadingly, "Sir, we can't go and leave you. Who knows how long the Earthmen will hold out?"
"All that will happen will happen to Olduk. Go, before you are refused permission to leave. Tell our people they are to be relentless, until the Earthmen give in. Now go."
The attaches no longer questioned his commands. Olduk was left alone.
The gong sounded on his television screen; Olduk threw the switch. The face of the manager of World Broadcasters appeared.
"You will appear and speak in two minutes," he said. Olduk stood before the television screen, waiting until the proper second. He had planned the time of this speech and the "hell" chosen by Earth would not begin until he was well into it. The Speaker of the Conclave had not yet thirsted. The moment came, and Olduk was introduced briefly, as his image broadcasted.
"Olduk, the Martian ambassador, speaking for his people—"
Olduk said gutturally, "Olduk greets you, people of Earth, and regrets that he cannot drink with you.
"All read story of Tantalus, people of Earth. An old Grecian myth it is, come true. Interesting, see?