ks won't do--we can counterfeit them, too, and will, if
necessary. Realize of course that hard money will still be valid, but it
can't be utilized practically for any but small transactions. Try taking
enough silver dollars to buy a refrigerator down to the store with you."

"But what's the purpose?" Larry demanded, flabbergasted.

"Isn't it obvious? Our whole Movement is devoted to the destruction of
social-label judgments. It's all very well to say: _You should not judge
your fellow men_ but when it comes to accepting another man's personal
check, friend, you damn well have to! The bum check artist might have a
field day to begin with--but only to begin with."

Larry shook his head in exasperation. "You people are a bunch of
anarchists," he accused.

"No," the Professor denied. "Absolutely not. We are the antithesis of the
anarchist. The anarchist says, 'No man is capable of judging another.' We
say, 'Each man must judge his fellow, must demand proper evaluation of
him.' To judge a man by his clothes, the amount of money he owns, the car
he drives, the neighborhood in which he lives, or the society he keeps, is
out of the question in a vital culture."

Larry said sourly, "Well, whether or not you're right, Voss, you've lost.
This place is surrounded. My men will be breaking in shortly."

Voss laughed at him. "Nonsense. All you've done is prevent us from
accomplishing this portion of our program. What will you do after my
arrest? You'll bring me to trial. Do you remember the Scopes' Monkey Trial
back in the 1920s which became a world appreciated farce and made
Tennessee a laughingstock? Well, just wait until you get _me_ into court
backed by my organization's resources. We'll bring home to every thinking
person, not only in this country, but in the world, the fantastic
qualities of our existing culture. Why,
Mr.-Secret-Agent-of-Anti-Subversive-Activity you aren't doing me an injury
by giving me the opportunity to have my day in court. You're doing me a
favor. Newspapers, radios, TriD will give me the chance to expound my
program in the home of every thinking person in the world."

There was a fiery dedication in the little man's eyes. "This will be my
victory, not my defeat!"

There were sounds now, coming from the other rooms--the garages. Some
shouts and scuffling. Faintly, Larry Woolford could hear Steve Hackett's
voice.

He was staring at the Professor, his eyes narrower.

The Professor was on his feet.