"What does Our Mutual Friend think about all this?" he asked,
gesturing toward the screen.

"Our Mutual Friend isn't at all happy about it."

"You think, perhaps, that I'm bursting into wild huzzas?" Salgath Trod
asked. "If I were to act as everybody expects me to, I'd be down there
on the floor, now, clawing into the Management tooth and nail. All my
adherents are wondering why I'm not. So are all my opponents, and
before long one of them is going to guess the reason."

"Well, why not go down?" the stranger asked. "Our Mutual Friend thinks
it would be an excellent idea. The leak couldn't be stopped, and it's
gone so far already that the Management will never be able to play it
down. So the next best thing is to try to exploit it."

Salgath Trod smiled mirthlessly. "So I am to get in front of it, and
lead it in the right direction? Fine ... as long as I don't stumble
over something. If I do, it'll go over me like a Fifth Level
bison-herd."

"Don't worry about that," the stranger laughed reassuringly. "There
are others on the floor who are also friends of Our Mutual Friend.
Here: what you'd better do is attack the Paratime Police, especially
Tortha Karf and Verkan Vall. Accuse them of negligence and
incompetence, and, by implication, of collusion, and demand a special
committee to investigate. And try to get a motion for a confidence
vote passed. A motion to censure the Management, say--"

Salgath Trod nodded. "It would delay things, at least. And if Our
Mutual Friend can keep properly covered, I might be able to overturn
the Management." He looked at the screen again. "That old fool of a
Nanthav is just getting started; it'll be an hour before I could get
recognized. Plenty of time to get a speech together. Something short
and vicious--"

"You'll have to be careful. It won't do, with your political record,
to try to play down these stories of a gigantic criminal conspiracy.
That's too close to the Management line. And at the same time, you
want to avoid saying anything that would get Verkan Vall and Tortha
Karf started off on any new lines of investigation."

Salgath Trod nodded. "Just depend on me; I'll handle it."

After the stranger had gone, he shut off the sound reception, relying
on visual dumb-show to keep him informed of what was going on on the
Council floor. He didn't like the situation. It was too easy to say
the wrong thing. If only he knew more about the shadowy figures whose
messengers used his