(See Cover)
The sober, somber Council chamber was filled with the sounds of waiting: the hum-buzz of bored conversation in the gallery, the deep, snoozy breathing of weary spectators who had fallen asleep, nervous coughs, the rustling of papers. Only those with very sharp ears could hear, above these sounds in Westminster's Central Hall, the pacing footsteps of the future.
At any moment, UNOmankind's fragile new device of peacemight fall apart beneath the weight of Russia's postwar drive to translate victory into expansion.
It was almost two hours since the Security Council had...
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