Coppersmith stood up. Landsiedel stood up, too. Coppersmith waved him back into his chair with an imperious gesture.
Coppersmith said, "Your man is expendable this time. Tell him I don't want the one-percent chance. I want success. Nothing but success. He can float all he wants to; he can run the show himself. But he must reach Atomsk, study it, let the Russians know that somebody has been there, and come back here. By this coming summer. If he can't do that, he needn't bother."
"Bother? You mean, bother to go? Who else would you send?" Landsiedel tried to rise to protest, but Coppersmith dropped an authoritative hand on the colonel's shoulder. The yellow leonine eyes blazed as Coppersmith said, with judicial and terrible distinctness:
"Tell him not to bother to come back at all. He can die. You would, Colonel, for a job like this. I would, too. He's no better than the rest of us. Atomsk matters more than our whole army in Japan."
Sarah was on her feet, struggling for words to protest.
Coppersmith snapped at her: "Sit down, Sarah. I know what I am doing. I'm going to give these orders to Dugan, myself."
Landsiedel murmured, "Will he take them?"
Coppersmith glared at him, "Take them? He's got to take them."
"Sir," said Landsiedel, "if he gets near Atomsk, who's going to follow him to make him obey? Don't pin him down, General. He'll do better if you give him leeway."
"Colonel Landsiedel," said General Coppersmith, "do you think that you and this girl and I can originate these orders? This is the American nation commanding. Dugan must succeed or fail. If he fails, others will follow. With the same orders. Till we reach Atomsk."