ssly, "that this is an emergency. The council will
automatically ratify any decision I make."

Harkaman depressed a button in front of him. "What I said;
dictatorship, with parliamentary false front."

"If he isn't a false-front dictator for some oligarchy." He motioned
to Harkaman to take his thumb off the button. "How large is this Council?"

"Sixteen, elected by the Syndicates they represent. There is the
Syndicate of Labor, the Syndicate of Manufacturers, the Syndicate
of Small Businesses, the...."

"Corporate State, First Century Pre-Atomic on Terra. Benny the Moose,"
Harkaman said. "Let's all go down and talk to them."

[Illustration]

When they were sure that the public had been warned to make no
resistance, the _Nemesis_ went down to two miles, bulking over
the center of the city. The buildings were low by the standards of
a contragravity-using people, the highest barely a thousand feet
and few over five hundred, and they were more closely set than
Sword-Worlders were accustomed to, with broad roadways between. In
several places there were queer arrangements of crossed roadways,
apparently leading nowhere. Harkaman laughed when he saw them.

"Airstrips. I've seen them on other planets where they've lost
contragravity. For winged aircraft powered by chemical fuel. I hope
we have time for me to look around, here. I'll bet they even have
railroads here."

The "great damage" caused by the bomb was about equal to the effect
of a medium hurricane; he had seen worse from high winds at Traskon.
Mostly it had been moral, which had been the kind intended.

They met President Pedrosan and the council of Syndics in a spacious
and well-furnished chamber near the top of one of the medium-high
buildings. Valkanhayn was surprised; in a loud aside he considered
that these people must be almost civilized. They were introduced.
Amaterasuan surnames preceded personal names, which hinted at a
culture and a political organization making much use of registration
by alphabetical list. They all wore garments which had the indefinable
but unmistakable appearance of uniforms. When they had all seated
themselves at a large oval table, Harkaman drew his pistol and used
the butt for a gavel.

[Illustration]

"Lord Trask, will you deal with these people directly?" he asked,
stiffly formal.

"Certainly, Admiral." He spoke to the President, ignoring the
others. "We want it understood that we control this city, and we
expect com