"Same thing," grumbled the Achernarian. "He kept insisting that we could learn to like their blossoms. I don't know when I've met anyone so dense." "Why didn't you report his visits to the Federation?" "Why should I? If I reported every idiot who approaches me, I'd get nothing else done." "Didn't it occur to you that he might have been trying to get some other information out of you? Perhaps something inimical to the Federation or to Achernar?" "Nonsense," snapped the Ambassador. "He was very nice. He was especially sympathetic to my position on this accursed planet. He'll probably make a very fine Senator." "No doubt," Manning said dryly. "Did you happen to notice if he were carrying some sort of luggage? A rather large box, in fact." The Ambassador thought a moment, crushing a handful of blossoms and waving them near his face. "I believe he was carrying some sort of covered box." "Covered?" "Yes." "You're sure?" "Of course, I'm sure. I'm always sure. What's so important about a box?" He looked up at Manning with a shrewd expression in his eyes. "You think, perhaps, he's carrying around a ballot box which he'll switch for the official one on election day? If so, I trust you will remember that this is a practice which was started on Terra and, therefore, he could have learned none of the fine points of this art from me." "I'll remember," Manning said, grinning. "By the way, don't you have any servants?" "Certainly I have servants. Fifty of them, if you must know." "Why don't they answer the door and conduct visitors to you?" "Do you think I would endanger their lives?" demanded the Ambassador. "Do you realize that these Regulusians are barbarians? Why, they've always eaten my kind and we Achernarians are not fooled by their claim that they've given up this horrible practice. They should never have been admitted to the Federation and I'm warning you—you may report this to Terra—that my planet is fully prepared to protect its citizens. An act of aggression will not go unanswered." "Sure,"
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