e."

Conn was lifting his glass to his lips. He set it down again and rose
to his feet.

"Then," he said, "we will build a hypership. On Koshchei there are
shipyards and hyperdrive engines and everything we will need. We only
need one normal-space interplanetary ship to get out there, and we're
in business."

"Well, I don't know we need one," Judge Ledue said. "That was only an
idea of Lorenzo's. I think Merlin's right here on Poictesme."

"We don't know it is," Conn replied. "And we don't know we won't need
a ship. Merlin may be on Koshchei; that's where the components would
be fabricated, and the Armed Forces weren't hauling anything any
farther than they had to. Koshchei's only two and a half minutes away
by radio; that's practically in the next room. Look; here's how they
could have done it."

He went on talking, about remote controls and radio transmission and
positronic brains and neutrino-circuits. They believed it all, even
the little they understood. They would believe anything he told them
about Merlin--except the truth.

"But this will take money," Lester Dawes said. "And after that
infernal deluge of unsecured paper currency thirty years ago ..."

"I have no doubt," Judge Ledue began, "that the Planetary Government
at Storisende would give assistance. I have some slight influence with
President Vyckhoven ..."

"Huh-_uh_!" That was one of Klem Zareff's fellow planters. "We don't
want Jake Vyckhoven or any of this First-Families-of-Storisende
oligarchy in this at all. That's the gang that bankrupted the
Government with doles and work relief, and everybody else with
worthless printing-press money after the War, and they've been
squatting in a circle deploring things ever since. Some of these days
Blackie Perales and his pirates'll sack Storisende, for all they'd be
able to do to stop him."

"We get a ship out to Koshchei, and the next thing you know we'll be
the Planetary Government," Tom Brangwyn said.

Rodney Maxwell finished the brandy in his glass and set it on the
table, then went to the pile of belts and holsters and began rummaging
for his own. Kurt Fawzi looked up in surprise.

"Rod, you're not leaving are you?" he asked.

"Yes. It's only half an hour till time for dinner, and I think Conn
and I ought to have a little fresh air. Besides, you know, we haven't
seen each other for six years." He buckled on the heavy automatic and
settled the belt over his hips. "You didn't have a gun, did y