quadrons dashing about with such a bee in his bonnet when he should be
obeying my commands."

Joe kept his voice respectful. "Then, sir, I'd request that we take the
matter to the Commander in Chief, your father."

"Indeed!"

Joe said, "Sir, I've been working on this a long time. I can't afford to
risk throwing the idea away."

Bait Haer glared at him. "Very well, captain. I'll call your bluff, come
along." He turned on his heel and headed from the room.

Joe Mauser shrugged in resignation and followed him.

* * * * *

The old Baron wasn't much happier about Joe Mauser's secrets than was
his son. It had only been the day before that he had taken Joe on, but
already he had seemed to have aged in appearance. Evidently, each hour
that went by made it increasingly clear just how perilous a position he
had assumed. Vacuum Tube Transport had elbowed, buffaloed, bluffed and
edged itself up to the outskirts of the really big time. The Baron's
ability, his aggressiveness, his flair, his political pull, had all
helped, but now the chips were down. He was up against one of the
biggies, and this particular biggy was tired of ambitious little Vacuum
Tube Transport.

He listened to his son's words, listened to Joe's defense.

He said, looking at Joe, "If I understand this, you have some scheme
which you think will bring victory in spite of what seems a disastrous
situation."

"Yes, sir."

The two Haers looked at him, one impatiently, the other in weariness.

Joe said, "I'm gambling everything on this, sir. I'm no Rank Private in
his first fracas. I deserve to be given some leeway."

Balt Haer snorted. "Gambling everything! What in Zen would _you_ have to
gamble, captain? The whole Haer family fortunes are tied up. Hovercraft
is out for blood. They won't be satisfied with a token victory and a
negotiated compromise. They'll devastate us. Thousands of mercenaries
killed, with all that means in indemnities; millions upon million in
expensive military equipment, most of which we've had to hire and will
have to recompensate for. Can you imagine the value of our stock after
Stonewall Cogswell has finished with us? Why, every two by four trucking
outfit in North America will be challenging us, and we won't have the
forces to meet a minor skirmish."

Joe reached into an inner pocket and laid a sheaf of documents on the
desk of Baron Malcolm Haer. The Baron scowled down at them.

Joe said simp