“Not citizens, no. But you have a number of exchange students working for you, do you not?”
“As part of our policy of sharing space science, yes.”
“Any Americans?”
“The Americans, the Americans!” Michael threw up his hands. “That’s all you hear about, the American threat! Just because their newspaper columnists—”
“Do you know those who have access to restricted files?” pressed Longin softly.
“Oh, John Huxley, Marshall McGregor, and Dana Canning . . .” He paused, considered a moment. “You said ‘she’? No, that’s crazy, Henryk.”
“Not as crazy as this situation we suddenly find ourselves in. I just finished talking to the American ambassador. Her premise is absolutely mad, as we
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know, but she’s thrown enough real facts at him to get him unsettled. And we cannot do with prying this close to lift-off.”
“No, of course not.” Michael considered. “You don’t really think the Americans would actually try and stop the launch?” Longin leaned back in his chair and gave an expressive shrug.
“Who knows?” His face was sad. “Americans are capable of anything—all that misdirected drive. They’re even crazier than the French.”
“You’d think we’d never helped them win then- independence from England,” Michael added ruefully.
Longin nodded. “They never forgave us for that. Charity’s never appreciated as much as it’s resented. They’re suspicious of us because they don’t understand us.”
“You’d think they’d worry more about the Russian Federalists.”
“They might,” Longin agreed, “if the Russians ever get strong enough. But we worry them more. According to their philosophy, our government should have collapsed a hundred years ago.” He sighed.