"I see, I see," Mrs. Delacourt beamed on Channing for the first time since they had met. "Everyone can save face if Earth and Deneb break off relations with Targoff at the same time."
"Right. Only poor Targoff gets left out in the cold."
"I assure you, it is far worse than that," said Qui Dor.
Sarchix had finished on the tie-line and turned to face Channing with a beaten look on his face—if you could call it a face and the slight change of feature-orientation a beaten look. Channing thought you could.
"Then we both break relations with Targoff?" he said.
"No." Sarchix shook his head sadly. Qui Dor paced about the room as if he were cornered. He seemed to know it and Sarchix did, although no one else seemed to notice.
At one and the same instant, Qui Dor and Ellen disappeared. A flitting realization barely made itself felt in Channing's mind. Two of them, but with no chance to take root. This was not Ellen. This was a copy created by Qui Dor to convince them Ellen had wanted ... wanted something, he couldn't remember what, created. Targoff and Qui Dor had not been discovered by Sarchix of Deneb—the Denebians had created them. The original power resided in the Denebians!
White hot and searing, it entered his mind—and vanished. He watched the Denebian Ambassador shaking hands with the Secretary of State before leaving the room. Somehow, the Denebian Ambassador looked glum, as if he had lost something important.
"Am I fired or something?" Channing wanted to know.
"I seem to remember some talk about it," State said vaguely. "But it doesn't make sense. There's no reason to fire you."