the banquet Calhoun made a brief and diplomatic address in which he
temperately praised what could be praised, and did not mention
anything else.

The chief executive followed him. As head of the government he paid
some tribute to the Med Service. But then he reminded his hearers
proudly of the high culture, splendid health, and remarkable
prosperity of the planet since his political party took office. This,
he said, despite the need to be perpetually on guard against the
greatest and most immediate danger to which any world in all the
galaxy was exposed.

He referred to the blueskins, of course. He did not need to tell the
people of Weald what vigilance, what constant watchfulness was
necessary against that race of deprived and malevolent deviants from
the norm of humanity. But Weald, he said with emotion, held aloft the
torch of all that humanity held most dear, and defended not alone the
lives of its people against blueskin contagion, but their noble
heritage of ideals against blueskin pollution.

When he sat down, Calhoun said very politely, "It looks as if some day
it should be practical politics to urge the massacre of all blueskins.
Have you thought of that?"

The chief executive said comfortably, "The idea's been proposed. It's
good politics to urge it, but it would be foolish to carry it out.
People vote against blueskins. Wipe them out, and where'd you be?"

Calhoun ground his teeth--quietly.