Senators were already filing through the Presidium as Edmonds of South
Africa came out of his office with Daugherty of the Foreign Office. The
youngest senator stopped beside the great bronze doors, studying the
situation. Then he sighed in relief. "It's all right," he told
Daugherty. "Premier Lesseur's presiding."
He hadn't been sure the premier's words were a full promise before. And
while he hadn't been too worried, it was good to see that the doubtful
vice-premier wouldn't be presiding.
"It better be all right," the diplomat said. "Otherwise, it's my neck.
Cathay's counting on Earth to help against the Kloomirians, and if
Director Flannery ever finds I committed us--"
Edmonds studied the seats that were filling, and nodded with more
confidence as he saw that most of the senators on whom he counted were
there. "I've got enough votes, as I told you. And with Lesseur
presiding, the opposition won't get far with parliamentary tricks
against me. This time, Earth's going to act."
Daugherty grunted, obviously still worried, and headed up the steps to
the reserved Visitors' Gallery, while Edmonds moved to his seat in the
assembly room. Today he didn't even mind the fact that it was back in
the section reserved for the newest members--the unknowns and
unimportants, from the way the press treated them. He would be neither
unknown nor unimportant, once his bill was passed, and his brief
experience would only add to the miracle he was working.
Looking back on his efforts, he found the results something of a
miracle to himself. It had taken two years of vote-swapping, of careful
propaganda, and of compromise with his principles. That business of
voting for the combined Throm-Meloa Aid Bill had been a bitter thing;
but old Harding was scared sick of antagonizing the aliens by seeming
partiality, and Edmonds' switch was the step needed to start the
softening up.
At that, he'd been lucky. In spite of what he'd learned of the
manipulation of sociological relationships, in spite of the long
preparation in advertising dynamics and affective psychology, he
couldn't have made it if Cathay hadn't been a human colony!
Now, though, Lesseur was calling the chamber to order. The senators
quieted quickly, and there was almost complete silence as the old man
picked up the paper before him.
"The Senate will consider Resolution 1843 today," Lesseur said quietly.
"_A Resolution that Earth shall grant assistance to the Colony of
Cathay in the event of any aggressive alien act__, proposed by Sir
Alfred Edmonds. Since the required time for deliberation has elapsed,
the chair will admit discussion on this resolution. Senator Edmonds!"
Edmonds was on his feet, and every face turned to him. The spotlight
came down on him, blinding him to the others. He picked up the
microphone, polishing the words in his mind. The vote might already be
decided, but the papers would still print what he said now! And those
words could mean his chance to work his way up through the Committee of
Foreign Affairs and perhaps on to becoming Earth's youngest premier.
It might even mean more. Once Earth shook off her lethargy and moved to
her rightful position of power and strength among the humanoid worlds,
anything could happen. There was the Outer Federation being formed
among the frontier worlds and the nucleus of close relations with
hundreds of planets. Some day there might be the position of premier of
a true Interstellar Congress!
* * * * *
Edmonds began quietly, listening to his voice roll smoothly from the
speakers, giving the long history of Earth and her rise to a position
as the richest and most respected of planets. He retold the story of
how she had been the first to discover the interstellar drive, and how
it had inevitably spread. He touched on the envy of the alien worlds,
and the friendship of the humanoid planets that had enabled Earth to
found her dozen distant colonies. He couldn't wisely discuss her
cowardice and timidity in avoiding her responsibilities to help her
friends; but there was another approach.
"In the forefront of every battle against alien aggression," he
declaimed proudly, "have been men from Earth. Millions of our young men
have fought gloriously and died gladly to protect the human--and
humanoid--civilizations from whatever forms of life have menaced them.
Djamboula led the forces of Hera against Clovis, just as Captain
O'Neill so recently directed the final battle that saved Meloa from the
hordes of Throm. In our own ranks, we have a man who spent eight long
and perilous years in such a gallant struggle to save a world for
humanoid decency. Senator Harding--"
From the darkened sea of faces, a voice suddenly sounded. "Will the
senator yield?" It was the deep baritone of Harding.
Edmonds frowned in irritation, but nodded. A few words of confirmation
on his point from Harding couldn't hurt. "I yield to the senator from
Dixie," he answered.
The spotlight shifted as Harding got slowly to his feet, making a white
halo of his hair. He did not look at Edmonds, but turned to face
Lesseur.
"Mr. Chairman," he said, "I move that Resolution 1843 be tabled!"
"Second!" The light shifted to another man, but Edmonds had no time to
see who it was as he stood staring open-mouthed at Harding.
He shouted for the chair's attention, but Lesseur brought the gavel
down sharply once, and his voice rang over the speakers. "It has been
moved and seconded that Resolution 1843 be tabled. The senators will
now vote."
Edmonds stood frozen as the voting began. Then he dropped back hastily
to press the button that would turn the square bearing his number a
negative red. He saw his light flash on, while other squares were
lighting. When the voting was finished, there were three such red
squares in a nearly solid panel of green.
"The resolution is tabled," Lesseur announced needlessly.
Harding stood up and began moving towards the rear where Edmonds sat.
The junior senator was too stunned for thought. Dimly he heard
something about regrets and explanations, but the words had no meaning.
He felt Harding help him to his feet and begin to guide him toward the
door, where someone had already brought a shocked, white-faced
Daugherty.
It was then he thought of Cathay, and what his ambition and Earth's
ultimate deceit and cowardice would mean to the millions there.
[Illustration: RONDA]