"But we might get off the hook. What about that explorer, Nicholson?"
"He did his job," said Channing. "Just like I'm trying to do mine."
"The wolves are howling from both directions," pleaded State. "You've got to do something."
"That's the trouble. Both directions. If we get rid of Qui Dor and tell the Targoffians we no longer want to maintain diplomatic relations, Deneb howls and we lose prestige. If we leave Qui Dor alone, Health and Public Welfare raises a stink."
"Well, it's justified. Have you heard the latest?"
"About what?"
"About a state of emergency, Bryan. Places where the standard of living is high, it isn't too bad. But try telling 'em in India they have to buy and take food concentrates along with Qui Dor's stuff. They won't listen to you. They starve to death. They take Qui Dor's medication to get rid of disease and the symptoms disappear. But they're still sick and some of them die."
"Has anyone spoken to Qui Dor about this?" Channing wanted to know.
"Health wants to. We won't let 'em. State's job, I said. They told me, then do it. How can I do it, Bryan? What can I say? The only time I ever met this Qui Dor was when he presented his credentials. You know Qui Dor. You've talked with him. He'll feel more at ease with you—or possibly that Nicholson fellow."
"Afraid you'll have to count Nick out. He's not a diplomat. All he wants is to get back into space again. You know, it isn't a bad idea. I still have my explorer's rating. I could—"