Mr. President," Steiner said, "Slocum was retired on my recommendation
two years ago. It seems to me that my responsibility ended there and
Security should have taken over."

The President Elect's finger left the trigger of the auto-rifle and his
lip drew in a little. "Quite so," he said curtly, and, turned to the
door. "Slocum!" he shouted. "Come out of there. We can use gas if we
want."

* * * * *

The door opened unexpectedly and a tired-looking man with three stars on
each shoulder stood there, bare-handed. "All right," he said drearily.
"I was fool enough to think something could be done about the regime.
But you fat-faced imbeciles are going to go on and on and--"

The stutter of the auto-rifle cut him off. The President Elect's
knuckles were white as he clutched the piece's forearm and grip; the
torrent of slugs continued to hack and plow the general's body until the
magazine was empty. "Burn that," he said curtly, turning his back on it.
"Dr. Barnes, come here. I want to know about my father's passing."

The doctor, hoarse and red-eyed from the whiff of phosphorus smoke,
spoke with him. The U.P. man had sagged drunkenly into a chair, but the
other newsmen noted that Dr. Barnes glanced at them as he spoke, in a
confidential murmur.

"Thank you, Doctor," the President Elect said at last, decisively. He
gestured to a Secret Serviceman. "Take those traitors away." They went,
numbly.

The Secretary of State cleared his throat. "Mr. President," he said, "I
take this opportunity to submit the resignations of myself and fellow
Cabinet members according to custom."

"That's all right," the President Elect said. "You may as well stay on.
I intend to run things myself anyway." He hefted the auto-rifle. "You,"
he said to the Secretary of Public Opinion. "You have some work to do.
Have the memory of my father's--artistic--preoccupations obliterated as
soon as possible. I wish the Republic to assume a war-like posture--yes;
what is it?"

A trembling messenger said: "Mr. President, I have the honor to inform
you that the College of Electors has elected you President of the
Republic--unanimously."

* * * * *

Cadet Fourth-Classman Thomas Grayson lay on his bunk and sobbed in an
agony of loneliness. The letter from his mother was crumpled in his
hand: "--prouder than words can tell of your appointment to the Academy.
Darling, I hardly knew my grandfather