Mr. President, Page 3

"I've never heardof it."

  "It is highest level top secret," the Manager of Defense explained."Instead of breaking down atoms and releasing some energy as in thestandard fission weapons, it converts matter entirely into energy.Given the matter-energy equation, the energy released by a smallamount of matter is fantastic."

  Al had risen and gone to the door. He returned with an old,gray-haired, stoop-shouldered man. The President recognized the famousManager of Research.

  The Manager launched immediately into his argument withoutpreliminaries. "Mr. President, while my department has finally found away to convert matter directly into energy, I believe that any use ofthis process would be disastrous. First, there is absolutely nosafeguard that could prevent a matter-conversion powered machine, usedfor peaceful purposes, from being changed into a lethal weapon by thesimplest of alterations. And as a weapon, the conversion bomb, unlikeatomic bombs, could not only destroy planets but stars with theirentire systems. We all know that the law of the Galaxy is to preventits domination by any one system--and given the distances andpopulations involved, that domination is obviously impossible. But ifwe began to construct conversion bombs, and if word of it got out, thewhole Galaxy would rise against us, all the way to the Edge."

  "But, Mr. President," the Manager of Defense said calmly. "We are nota unique people. If we do not produce the conversion bomb, you mayrest assured that someone else will. Maybe even our friends, the Gnii.No system has ever saved itself by refusing to manufacture the bestweapons available to it. As for the Galaxy rising against us--if wehave the conversion bomb, let them! We will be able to defendourselves against any or all of them and blast their suns into novae."

  "Until _they_ have the bomb," the Manager of Scientific Researchinterrupted. "As you say, we are not a unique people."

  "Gentlemen," the President said, standing up suddenly. "I feel tiredand dizzy. The idea of a bomb that can wipe out systems is new to me.If you will leave your tapes, I will study your arguments tonight, andwe can resume this discussion tomorrow."

  * * * * *

  The two Managers rose immediately, shook hands with the President, andleft. They did not speak to each other as they went through the door.

  "Mr. President," Al said, "it's seven o'clock. Will you join me fordinner, sir?"

  President Wong slumped back into his seat and stared dully at Al, onlyhalf noticing his friendly grin. "What would you do about the Gnii,Al, if you were in my place?" he asked.

  "I'm sorry, sir," Al said, "but I really don't know. Better come alongfor some dinner. You've had a hard day, and you have a harder oneahead of you tomorrow. We saved a number of difficult problems that wedidn't want to throw at you on your first day in office."

  A ghost of a smile crept over the President's face, then disappearedquickly. "It's all right, Al. Go ahead and eat. I think I'll just stayhere and go over these tapes."

  As Al left, President Wong saw the order for the police action on hisdesk. He picked it up to call Al to take it with him, but his eyescaught the words _500,000 men_ ... _sixteen years_, and a picture ofthe terribly wounded veterans flashed before his eyes. Really, hewould have to go through the files and find out if the expedition wasnecessary....

  He opened the left-hand desk drawer and stared at the Gnii tapes, buthe didn't take any of them out. It seemed like too much of an effort.

  And then, the conversion bomb was so much more important.

  He closed the first drawer and opened the one with the conversion bombtapes.

  But the Gnii had to be answered tomorrow--the bomb could wait. Heslammed the drawer shut.

  "Gnii," he muttered to himself, and opened the other drawer.

  Then he noticed that he had put the police action order back into hisOUTGOING basket. He slammed the drawer with the Gnii tapes shut againand opened the drawer below it and pushed the order inside, so that itwouldn't be picked up by mistake before he could check on it.

  "Five hundred thousand men in here," he said as he closed the drawer."Going to--"

  Where were they supposed to go? He couldn't remember. He opened thedrawer again and looked at the order. To Altair D. The name had nomeaning for him.

  Now, let's see ... oh, yes, the conversion bomb tape.

  He opened the drawer to take out the tapes, and remembered that theGnii ultimatum had to be answered by tomorrow.

  "Gnii, Gnu, Gnuts," he said, opening a drawer. It was the wrong one,and the tapes weren't there. Which tapes?

  The door opened, and President Wong looked up to see Al's smiling facepeering in.

  "I was passing by, sir," Al said, "and I wondered if I couldn't talkyou into supper--"

  "_Get out!_" the President shouted.

  The door closed softly.

  Now where was he?... Oh, yes, the conversion bomb. Conversion,conversion, conversation, bomb, bomb, boom, _BOOM_. But that wasn't iteither--it was the Gnii, they had to be answered by tomorrow.... Gnii,Gnii, Gnu, Gnuts, now in what drawer had he put the gnats? And whyorder a police action against Gnats? Just convert every one of theminto spiders....

  * * * * *

  Al walked slowly down the hall, his grin gone, his face looking washedout. He turned into his own little office and snapped on thecommunications video.

  "First Vice-President Michael Thompson," he said to the operator.

  In a moment Thompson appeared on the screen.

  "Mr. First Vice-President," Al said in a tired voice, "may I suggestthat you remain in the Capital for the next few weeks?"

  Even though he knew that it was not polite, Al snapped off the setwithout waiting for a reply--but not before he caught the white andfrightened look on Thompson's face.

  --STEPHEN ARR

  * * * * *