But Captain Roke was going on. "So the Lord of the Fleet simply came to me and we ordered a routine survey by a competent combat engineer." Ah! No wonder we had not been able to find the original! It had been ordered by the Crown and would have come straight to Palace City – and even Lombar Hisst couldn't get into that!

The King's Own Astrographer tapped the top sheet of the report. "The survey was accordingly made. And I greatly fear our worst fears were realized." He paused for emphasis, looking gravely around the vast board. "The present inhabitants are wrecking the planet!Even if they don't blow it up first, they will have rendered it useless and uninhabitable longbefore the invasion called for on our Timetable!" A startled shock had gone around the whole vast table.

Lombar Hisst was gouging Endow's back urgently, giving him his cue.

"Captain . . . er . . . Captain," quavered Endow, trying his best to sound bold, "can we . . . ah . . . be sure that these conclusions are not that of some subordinate? Such an alarmist conclusion ..."

"Lord Endow," said Captain Roke, "the combat engineer made no recommendations at all. He simply took measurements, samples and photographs." With a flick of his wrist, for all the world like a street magician, he snapped a chart that rolled out from the dais, across it and onto the floor, fifteen feet of tabulated observations. And then his voice bounced around the hall. "It was Iwho did the summary: it was Iwho made the conclusion! And every Fleet astrographer and geophysicist consulted concurred with it absolutely!" Endow got another jab in the back and tried again. "And . . . er . . . oof. . . Could we inquire what there is in those observations that led experts to that opinion?"

"You may," said Captain Roke. He snapped the roll back to him like another magician's trick but there was only hard scientific certainty in his voice tones. As he looked at the top lines, he said, "Compared to the last reliable observations taken a third of a century ago, the oxygen in the oceans there has depleted 14 percent. This means a destruction of the hydrographic biosphere."

"I beg pardon?" said some Lord at the huge table.

Captain Roke abruptly realized he was not talking to a totally informed audience. "Hydrographic biosphere is that part of the planet's life band that lives in the oceans. Samples show pollution, possibly oil spills from these figures of increased petroleum molecules in ocean . . ."

"Petroleum?" called someone.

"The oil that forms when cataclysms bury living matter: under pressure, the remains become a source of carbon fuel. They pump it to the surface and burn it." Lords and aides were looking at one another in consternation. Someone called, "You mean it's a fire culture? I thought you said it was thermonuclear."

"Please let me get on," said Captain Roke. He rattled the chart. "The industrial waste in the atmosphere measures now in excess of a trillion tons, well beyond the capacity of dead and living things now extant there to reabsorb."

"A thermonuclear fire culture," puzzled someone at the back of the hall.

Captain Roke plowed on. "The upper atmosphere hydrocarbon imbalance is critical and worsening. The sulfur content has grown excessive. The heat from their star is becoming progressively more trapped by the contaminated atmosphere. Their magnetic poles are wandering." He sensed his audience was impatient for him to get on with it. He laid aside the chart.

"What it means," said Captain Roke, putting his hands on the dais table and leaning toward them, "is a double threat to that planet. One: they are burning up their atmosphere oxygen at a rate that will cease to support life long before the planned date of our Invasion Timetable. Two: the planet has glacial polar caps and the increase of surface temperature, combined with wandering polar caps, could melt these and cover the bulk of their continental areas with water, making the planet almost useless." I felt even sicker. This was going to recoil on Section 451 – me – like a firebomb.

I knew this meant the end, not only of myself but Endow, Lombar and the whole Apparatus.

I, too, felt like cursing Jettero Heller! This was the absolute end of everything we had planned – I mean that Lombar had planned. I could see no way out. None!

When the full purport of what Captain Roke had concluded had been clarified for the Lords by their aides behind them, and when everyone in that vast, glittering hall fully understood that Roke was actually telling them that the whole Invasion Timetable was suddenly threatened, consternation rose up like a growing storm.

Lombar jabbed Endow ferociously in the back and the old Lord took a deep breath so he could yell loud enough to be heard above the babble. "Would the captain tell us if the combat engineer reported anything else?" Endow slumped back, exhausted with the effort and his nurse dabbed at his mouth with a cloth.

As this might be important, there was a dying down of the tumult. Roke looked at his reports, rattled some papers. Without looking up, he said, "Because he was, after all, a combat engineer, there area couple of items he added on his own." I could actually feel Lombar Hisst tense up. I, too, stopped breathing.

"The first one," said Roke, "is a fast survey of the planet's detection equipment." He looked closer at the report. "They are said to have electronic detection equipment for flying objects . . . here's the wavelengths and estimated ranges of it. They have a satellite communications system . . . here's the satellite count, range and extent with estimated traffic volumes." Roke turned a page. He smiled slightly. "The combat engineer said that when the signals were unscrambled, most of that traffic turned out to be home entertainment. There is no defense network to detect approaches from outer space and it is all easily avoided." Lombar jabbed Endow and the old Lord said, "And the other item?" Roke turned another page. "He said it seemed like a nice planet. And that it was a shame they weren't taking care of it."

"And that's all?" said Endow in response to a nudge from behind.

Roke glanced through the report again and then looked up. "Yes, that's all. Nothing else." I could feel the tension ooze out of Lombar. He sat back. He almost laughed. This was what he had been waiting to hear. This was the turning point for him. He got brisk and whispered in Endow's ear.

Endow said, "The Crown, if you please. This conclusion the Royal Astrographer seems to have reached, without submitting the data first to authoritative divisions, is very grave and very alarming. It threatens the schedules, budgets, allocations, construction projects, training programs and even the administration sections of every division here!" Lombar was proud of him. He even patted him on the back.

The effect was immediate. Every Division around that table went into instant turmoil. It was true: change the invasion schedule and you changed the activities and priorities of thousands of sections in a government as vast and ponderous as Voltar's. To them it meant double, triple work. It meant endless conferences, huge stacks of revised plans, working late for weeks and confusion, confusion, confusion. You didn't do things in a minute. It took time!

Captain Roke was through and withdrew. The Crown took over and cymbals clanged for quiet.

"Opinions," said the Crown, "are requested on the feasibility of making an immediate and preemptive strike on Blito-P3." The Lord of the Army Division said, "We have no available reserves. The entire matter would have to be handled by Fleet and its marines." The Lord of the Fleet said, "We have not replaced the ship losses suffered in the Cliteus campaign. We would have to withdraw from the Hombivinin War and sacrifice many gains made there. The Fleet marines are already below recruiting quota by thirty-nine million. We must retain marine reserves because of the weakness of the Domestic Police in handling the Prince Mortiiy revolt in the Calabar System." An aide leaned forward and whispered to him. "And," he added, "Tactical Command informs me that if the planetary forces of Blito-P3 have thermonuclear arms, they could panic at a space invasion threat and blow the remaining oxygen cover off their planet. This would worsen, not better your problem." I could almost hear Lombar purr.