its rule of choosing by lots; I should like to present Mr. Powart
with the chair for as long a period as he would care to fill it."

He took his seat amid a general murmur of approval, while nine pair
of eyes were turned in unison upon the pair Van Emmon was sharing.
His agent, then, was chairman of some sort of a council, known as
"the commission."

Powart got to his feet. Even in this simple act his motions were
swift and sure; they harmonized perfectly with the way he talked.

"Thanks, both you. To be frank, I am glad, for the sake of the
association, that the youngest commissioner has come to its head at
this time. If there were a younger than myself, I would say the
same."

He paused and glanced at some memoranda in his hand. Van Emmon was
struck, first, by the smooth skin and perfect formation of the hand
and wrist; and, second, by the peculiar writing on the papers. He
had no idea what it meant, although his agent certainly did.
(Afterward the four concluded that, in the case of words written in
code or otherwise requiring an effort of the agent's conscious mind,
the people on the earth, being in touch only with the subconscious,
were never informed. But they never had any trouble in understanding
anything that was said aloud.)

"If there are any special matters which should be handled in general
session, now is the time to bring them up," said Powart, and
remained standing.