dicap on his abilities
to serve the organization headed by Holland Hodgson. He wondered if he
was becoming useless.

* * * * *

Max stuck his head in the door and said, "Major, sir, one of these
here Hungarians wants to see you."

"Who?" Joe growled. "And why?"

"It's that Lieutenant Colonel Kossuth one, sir. I told him Doc Haer
said you couldn't be bothered, but he don't seem to take no for an
answer."

Kossuth, Joe Mauser knew, was assigned to the West-world Embassy
military attache department on a full time basis. It occurred to him
that the Hungarian would be privy to the inner workings of the Party
as they applied to Joseph Mauser and his associates.

"Show him in," he told Max.

"But the Doc--"

"Show him in, Max."

Lieutenant Colonel Bela Kossuth was solicitous. He clicked heels,
bowed from the waist, inquired of Joe's well being.

Joe wasn't feeling up to military amenities after his framed-up near
demise of the day before. He growled, "I'd think you'd be wishing I
occupied Captain Rakoczi's place, rather than offering me sympathy."

The Hungarian's eyebrows went up, and uninvited he took the chair next
to the bed. "But why?"

"You _were_ the man's second."

Kossuth was expansive. "When asked to act, I could hardly refuse a
brother officer. Besides, my superiors suggested that I take the part.
As you probably have ascertained, major, there is considerable doubt
the desirability of you remaining in Budapest."

Joe was astonished. "You mean to sit there and deliberately admit the
duel was a planned attempt to eliminate me?"

The colonel coolly looked about the room. "Why not, major? There is no
one here to witness our conversation."

"And you admit that your precious Party, the ruling organ of this
Proletarian Paradise of yours, actually orders what amounts of
assassination?"

Kossuth examined his finger nails with studied nonchalance. "Why not
admit it? The party will do literally anything to maintain itself in
its position, major. Certainly, the death of a junior officer of the
West-world means nothing to them."

"But aren't you a Party member yourself?"

"Of course. One must be, if one is to operate as freely as
circumstance allows in this best of all possible worlds, this paradise
of ours."

Joe sank back on his pillow. He couldn't get used to the idea of this
man, whom he had always thought of as the arch-stereotype Sov-world
officer, speaking in thi