wly, lighting another cigar. "It could be five
thousand a year. That's why I don't have the time. Fifteen thousand,
fifty thousand. We could do it--but we're not doing it. Walter
Rinehart's been rejuvenated--twice already! _I'm_ on the list because
I shouted so loud they didn't dare leave me off. But _you're_ not on
it. Why not? You could be. Everybody could be."

Dr. Moss spread his hands. "The Criterion Committee does the
choosing."

"_Rinehart's_ criteria! Only five hundred a year. Use it for a weapon.
Build power with it. Get a strangle-hold on it, and never, never let
it go." The Senator leaned across the desk, his eyes bright with
anger. "I haven't got time to stop what I'm doing now--because I can
_stop_ Rinehart, if I only live that long, I can break him, split his
Criterion Committee wide open _now_ while there's still a chance, and
open rejuvenation up to everybody instead of five hundred lucky ones a
year. I can stop him because I've dug at him and dug at him for
twenty-nine years, and shouted and screamed and fought and made people
listen. And if I fumble now, it'll all be down the drain, finished,
washed up.

"If that happens, _nobody_ will ever stop him."

There was silence in the room for a moment. Then Moss spread his
hands. "The hearings are that critical, eh?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Why has it got to be _your_ personal fight? Other people could do
it."

"They'd fumble it. They'd foul it up. Senator Libby fouled it up once
already, a long time ago. Rinehart's lived for a hundred and nineteen
years, and he's learning new tricks every year. I've only lived
fifty-six of them, but I know his tricks. I can beat him."

"But why _you_?"

"Somebody's got to do it. My card is on top."

A 'phone buzzer chirped. "Yes, he's here." Dr. Moss handed Dan the
receiver. A moment later the Senator was grinning like a cat
struggling into his overcoat and scarf. "Sorry, Doc--I know what you
tell me is true, and I'm no fool. If I have to stop, I'll stop."

"Tomorrow, then."

"Not tomorrow. One of my lads is back from the Mars Colony. Tomorrow
we pow-wow--but hard. After the hearings, Doc. And meanwhile, keep
your eye on the teevies. I'll be seeing you."

The door clicked shut with a note of finality, and Dr. David Moss
stared at it gloomily. "I hope so," he said. But nobody in particular
heard him.

III

A Volta two-wheeler was waiting for him outside. Jean drove off down
the drive with characteristic co