into mufti himself but having
Max do the same.

In fact, the new batman protested faintly. He hadn't nearly, as yet, got
over the glory of wearing his kilts and was looking forward to parading
around town in them. He had a point, of course. The appointed time for
the fracas was getting closer and buffs were beginning to stream into
town to bask in the atmosphere of threatened death. Everybody knew what
a military center, on the outskirts of a fracas reservation such as the
Catskills, was like immediately preceding a clash between rival
corporations. The high-strung gaiety, the drinking, the overtranking,
the relaxation of mores. Even a Rank Private had it made. Admiring
civilians to buy drinks and hang on your every word, and more important
still, sensuous-eyed women, their faces slack in thinly suppressed
passion. It was a recognized phenomenon, even Max Mainz knew--this
desire on the part of women Telly fans to date a man, and then watch him
later, killing or being killed.

"Time enough to wear your fancy uniform," Joe Mauser growled at him. "In
fact, tomorrow's a local election day. Parlay that up on top of all the
fracas fans gravitating into town and you'll have a wingding the likes
of nothing you've seen before."

"Well yessir," Max begrudged. "Where're we going now, captain?"

"To the airport. Come along."

Joe Mauser led the way to his sports hovercar and as soon as the two
were settled into the bucket seats, hit the lift lever with the butt of
his left hand. Aircushion-borne, he trod down on the accelerator.

Max Mainz was impressed. "You know," he said. "I never been in one of
these swanky sports jobs before. The kinda car you can afford on the
income of a Mid-Lower's stock aren't--"

"Knock it off," Joe said wearily. "Carping we'll always have with us
evidently, but in spite of all the beefing in every strata from
Low-Lower to Upper-Middle, I've yet to see any signs of organized
protest against our present politico-economic system."

[Illustration]

"Hey," Max said. "Don't get me wrong. What was good enough for Dad is
good enough for me. You won't catch me talking against the government."

"Hm-m-m," Joe murmured. "And all the other cliches taught to us to
preserve the status quo, our People's Capitalism." They were reaching
the outskirts of town, crossing the Esopus. The airport lay only a mile
or so beyond.

It was obviously too deep for Max, and since he didn't understand, he
assumed his super