The Star Beast by Robert A. Heinlein

“Ain’t that a mess?” Robbins demanded. “Where do you hide your cigarettes?”

“It does seem a rather lavish waste of paper,” Kiku agreed. “In the arm of the visitor’s chair.”

“Well, how do we handle it? I was caught flat-footed. Why doesn’t somebody tell me these things?”

“Just a moment.” Mr. Kiku leaned to his desk. “Security? Ah, O’Neill. . . place more special police around the Hroshii landing craft. . .”

“You’ve got ’em, boss. But why doesn’t somebody tell us these things?”

“A fair question. Whatever guard you are using, use more. There must not only be no riot; there must be no incidents. Station as many trained tension-dispersal technicians in the crowd as you can scrape up, then borrow more from other agencies. Then give special attention to lunatic-fringe organizations. . . xenophobic ones, I mean. Any trouble yet?”

“Nothing we couldn’t snuff out. But I’m making no promises. I still think somebody ought to tell. . .”

“No doubt. Keep in touch with me.” Kiku turned to Robbins. “Do you know how the interview happened to be granted?”

“Do I act like it? He was going to the ‘Tri Con’ citation dinner, safe as houses. I got his approval on his speech, gave him his copy and passed the others around to the boys, with suggestions on how to play it. Everybody happy. I get up this morning feeling ninety and before I’ve had my coffee I feel a hundred and fifty. Know anybody wants my job? I’m going to study how to be a beachcomber.”

“A reasonable thought. Wes, let me bring you up to date. Nothing was to be released about this matter until it was concluded, but now. . .” He quickly outlined the latest Hroshii crisis.

Robbins nodded, “I see. And Number One jerked the rug out from under you. A fine playmate.”

“Well, we had better see him. Is he here?”

“Yes. I was waiting for you, pal. Will you hold him while I hit him? Or the other way around?”

“Whichever you wish. Shall we get it over with?”

The Secretary was in; they were admitted and MacClure got up to seat them. After which they just sat. Robbins waited for Mr. Kiku to speak, but Kiku held still, face expressionless, a statue carved of ebony.

MacClure began to fidget. “Well, Henry? This is a busy morning. . . I’ve already been tied up with the S.G.”

“I had thought that you would want to instruct us, Mr. Secretary.”

“What for?”

“Have you seen the morning papers, sir?”

“Well. . . yes.”

“There has been a change in policy. Assistant Secretary Robbins and I would like to be briefed on the new policy.”

“What new policy?”

“Your new policy concening the Hroshii, Mr. Secretary. Or are the newspapers in error?”

“Eh? Well, no, not precisely. Exaggerated of course. But no change in policy. I simply told the people what they were entitled to know.”

“The people are entitled to know.” Mr. Kiku fitted his fingers together. “Ah, yes. In a government based on free consent of free men the people are always entitled to know. An old bureaucrat, such as myself, sometimes loses track of that fundamental. Thank you for reminding me.” He seemed lost in cosmic thought for a moment, then added, “I suppose the thing now is to repair my failure and tell the people everything.”

“Eh? What do you mean?” .

“Why, the whole story, Mr. Secretary. How through our own ignorance and disregard for the rights of others, both now and in the past, we kidnapped a member of a civilized race. How blind luck alone kept that xenian alive. How as a result of this we now find our own planet threatened with destruction-and how a highly intelligent citizen of a friendly power (I refer to Dr. Ftaeml) assures us that these Hroshii can indeed destroy us. It would be necessary to tell them also that yesterday we were within minutes of ordering an attack on these xenians-but that we lost our nerve and decided to negotiate, since we had no knowledge of our strength relative to theirs, but only the very sobering opinion of Dr. Ftaeml to guide us. Yes, we must tell them that”