aid Trimmer. "I'm more or less privileged around here.
The Sultan finances his reclamation through the bank, on the basis of my
reports. But there's more to Singhalut than the Sultan."

"Namely?"

Trimmer waved his cigar waggishly. "Now we're getting in where I don't
like to talk. I'll give you a hint. Prince Ali thinks roofing-in more
valleys is a waste of money, when there's Hadra and New Batavia and
Sundaman so close."

"You mean--armed conquest?"

Trimmer laughed. "You said it, not me."

"They can't carry on much of a war--unless the soldiers commute by
monorail."

"Maybe Prince Ali thinks he's got the answer."

"Sjambaks?"

"I didn't say it," said Trimmer blandly.

Murphy grinned. After a moment he said. "I picked up with a girl named
Soek Panjoebang who plays the _gamelan_. I suppose she's working for
either the Sultan or Prince Ali. Do you know which?"

Trimmer's eyes sparkled. He shook his head. "Might be either one.
There's a way to find out."

"Yeah?"

"Get her off where you're sure there's no spy-cells. Tell her two
things--one for Ali, the other for the Sultan. Whichever one reacts you
know you've got her tagged."

"For instance?"

"Well, for instance she learns that you can rig up a hypnotic ray from a
flashlight battery, a piece of bamboo, and a few lengths of wire.
That'll get Ali in an awful sweat. He can't get weapons. None at all.
And for the Sultan," Trimmer was warming up to his intrigue, chewing on
his cigar with gusto, "tell her you're on to a catalyst that turns clay
into aluminum and oxygen in the presence of sunlight. The Sultan would
sell his right leg for something like that. He tries hard for Singhalut
and Cirgamesc."

"And Ali?"

Trimmer hesitated. "I never said what I'm gonna say. Don't forget--I
never said it."

"Okay, you never said it."

"Ever hear of a _jehad_?"

"Mohammedan holy wars."

"Believe it or not, Ali wants a _jehad_."

"Sounds kinda fantastic."

"Sure it's fantastic. Don't forget, I never said anything about it. But
suppose someone--strictly unofficial, of course--let the idea percolate
around the Peace Office back home."

"Ah," said Murphy. "That's why you came to see me."

* * * * *

Trimmer turned a look of injured innocence. "Now, Murphy, you're a
little unfair. I'm a friendly guy. Of course I don't like to see the
bank lose what we've got tied up in the Sultan."

"Why don't you send in a report yourself