* *

On the ground, Nadine was met by one contingent from the Embassy and
from the Sov-world authorities, and Joe and Max by another. Joe became
occupied, hardly more than noticing that she had been whisked away in
a hoverlimousine, ornately bedecked with official flags and stars.

Joe, no longer holding military rank, in spite of his mission, was in
mufti, and restrained himself from returning the salute when greeted
by two fresh young lieutenants from the Embassy and a be-medaled
lieutenant colonel in Sov-world uniform, whose tight-waisted tunic
reminded Joe of that worn by Colonel Lajos Arpad, the military attache
Joe had come across twice in West-world fracases, and who Frank
Hodgson had branded an espionage agent. Joe swore again, inwardly,
that these Hungarian officers must wear girdles under their uniforms,
and wondered vaguely if they did so in combat.

The lieutenants, who could have been twins, so alike were they in
size, bright smiling faces, uniform and words of welcome, saluted Joe,
shook hands, and then turned to introduce him to the Sov-world
officer.

One of them said, "Major Mauser, may we present you to Lieutenant Bela
Kossuth of the Pink Army?"

They were, evidently using Joe's old title of rank, as if he were
retired rather than dismissed from the Category Military. It meant
little to Joe Mauser. The Sov officer clicked his heels, bowed from
the waist, extended his hand to be shaken. His waist might be pinched
in like that of a girl of the Nineteenth Century, but his hand was dry
and firm.

"The fame of Joseph Mauser has penetrated to the Proletarian
Paradise," he said, his voice conveying sincerity.

Joe shook and said, "Pink Army? I thought you called it--"

The colonel was indicating a hoverlimousine with a sweeping gesture
that would have seemed overly graceful, had not Joe felt the grip of
the man only a moment earlier. Kossuth interrupted him politely, "The
plane was a trifle late and the banquet we have prepared awaits us,
major. A multitude of my fellow officers are anxious to meet the famed
Joseph Mauser. Would it surprise you to know that I have replayed, a
score of times, your celebrated holding action on the Louisiana
Military Reservation? Zut! Unbelievable. With but a single company of
men!"

Joe was looking at him blankly. _Celebrated!_ Joe couldn't but
remember the fracas the mincing Hungarian was talking about. When the
front had collapsed, Joe, then a captain, had