His eyes, a weary grey-blue, were unreadable as they met Dougal MacDougal’s. “I will describe everything, and conceal nothing.”

“Very good.” The Ambassador turned at once to the other man. “I know you two never stop bickering. I just want to tell you, this isn’t the time and place for it. If you have anything to disagree on, do it now. The link will close in a few seconds.”

Esro Mondrian had to look up to meet MacDougal’s glare. Both MacDougal and Brachis towered over him by a full head, and in contrast to them his build was slender, even frail. Unlike them, he was also wearing the plainest of costumes. The severe black uniform of Boundary Security, precisely tailored and meticulously clean, stood unadorned by medals or insignia of office. Only the single fire opal at his left collar served as his identification badge — and concealed its other multiple functions as communicator, computer, warning system, and weapon.

Mondrian shrugged. “I’m not in the habit of concealing information from anyone who legitimately has a need to know it. As soon as we have full identification for the parties tapping in to the Link, and a secure line, I’ll give them all the information that I believe appropriate.’

His voice was agreeable and low in volume, but it was not offering the commitment that Dougal MacDougal was asking. Before MacDougal could reply, the lights for full Mattin Link operation began to blink. The Terran Ambassador gave Mondrian one unsatisfied scowl and turned to face the sunken well of the room. In front of them, the hemisphere of the Star Chamber’s central atrium had been empty. Now three oval patterns of light were flickering into existence within it. As the men watched, the lights gradually solidified to reveal the three-dimensional images of the Ambassadors.