been saying anything. Now he cleared his throat.

"On the _Peenemuende_, I was talking about taking Mr. Murell for a trip
in the _Javelin_," he said. "That was while we were still pretending
he'd come here to write a book. Maybe that would be a good idea,
anyhow."

"It's a cinch we can't let him get killed on us," his father said. "I
doubt if Exotic Organics would send anybody else out, if he was."

"Here," Dad said. "We'll run the story we have on him in the morning
edition, and then correct it and apologize to the public for
misleading them and explain in the evening edition. And before he
goes, we can have him make an audiovisual for the 'cast, telling
everybody who he is and announcing the price he's offering. We'll put
that on the air. Get enough publicity, and Steve Ravick won't dare do
anything to him."

Publicity, I thought, is the only weapon Dad knows how to use. He
thinks it's invincible. Me, I wouldn't bet on what Steve Ravick
wouldn't dare do if you gave me a hundred to one. Ravick had been in
power too long, and he was drunker on it than Bish Ware ever got on
Baldur honey-rum. As an intoxicant, rum is practically a soft drink
beside power.

"Well, do you think Ravick's gotten onto Murell yet?" Oscar said. "We
kept that a pretty close secret. Joe and I knew about him, and so did
the Mahatma and Nip Spazoni and Corkscrew Finnegan, and that was all."

"I didn't even tell Tom, here, till the _Peenemuende_ got into radio
range," Joe Kivelson said. "Then I only told him and Ramon and
Abdullah and Abe and Hans Cronje."

"And Al Devis," Tom added. "He came into the conning tower while you
were telling the rest of us."

The communication screen began buzzing, and I went and put it on. It
was Bish Ware, calling from a pay booth somewhere.

"I have some early returns," he said. "The cops cleared everybody out
of Hunters' Hall except the Ravick gang. Then Ravick reconvened the
meeting, with nobody but his gang. They were very careful to make sure
they had enough for a legal quorum under the bylaws, and then they
voted to accept the new price of thirty-five centisols a pound."

"That's what I was afraid of," Joe Kivelson said. "Did they arrest any
of my crew?"

"Not that I know of," Bish said. "They made a few arrests, but turned
everybody loose later. They're still looking for you and your son. As
far as I know, they aren't interested in anybody else." He glanced
hastily over his shoulder, as though to m