The Angel turned slowly, from right to left. “It appears that the other representatives are no longer able to participate in this meeting. What is your decision?”

“No decision. I have to think about it.”

“Then think about it well, Chan Dalton, and with all possible speed. We will return, one of your days from now, to learn your answer.”

The Angel became a prismatic blur of colors. The Link was closing.

And that was probably just as well. Chan Dalton happened to be looking right at the monitor as he moved toward the front of the chamber, and his muttered words came through clearly to Flammarion and Milly Grant.

“Crazy. What do they think I am, some kind of human sacrifice putting my butt on the line for nothing? I’m out of here.”

But he could not leave. Dougal MacDougal stood right in his path. “Ah, Chan Dalton.” MacDougal took him by the arm, then released him when he saw Chan’s glare. “That was most interesting, and most promising. They are ready to end the quarantine!”

“I agreed to nothing.”

“Ah, but I know you will make the right decision — for the good of humanity. However, there are one or two points that we urgently need to discuss before the Stellar Group returns tomorrow.”

The Ambassador had a most odd expression on his face. Flammarion would have said it was embarrassment, had he been able to think of any reason for such a look. He said urgently to Milly, “Don’t turn off the monitor!”

“Of course I won’t.” She sniffed. “And don’t you try to teach me my business, Flammarion. I’ve been doing this for years, and I know how to read MacDougal. When he gets that pie-faced look something peculiar is on the way. Sit tight, keep quiet, and maybe you’ll learn something.”

* * *

“Something to eat? Something to drink?”