d be very
smart, that's why. Rinehart's out of it, now. Washed up, finished,
thanks to you. Now it's just you or me, one or the other. You're in
the way, and you're going to be gotten out of the way when you've
finished up Rinehart, because I'm going to start rolling them. Go
along with me now and you won't get smashed, Dan."

"Get out of here," Dan snarled, sitting bolt upright. "You gave it to
Carl Golden, a long time ago when he was with you, remember? Carl's my
boy now--do you think I'll swallow the same bait?"

"You'd be smart if you did." The man leaned forward. "I'll let you in
on a secret. I've just recently had a--_vision_, you might say. There
are going to be riots and fires and shouting, around the time of the
Hearings. People will be killed. Lots of people--spontaneous outbursts
of passion, of course, the great voice of the people rising against
the Abomination. And against _you_, Dan. A few Repeaters may be taken
out and hanged, and then when you have won against Rinehart, you'll
find people thinking that you're really a traitor--"

"Nobody will swallow that," Dan snapped.

"Just watch and see. I can still call it off, if you say so." He stood
up quickly as Dan's face went purple. "New Chicago," he said
smoothly. "Have to see a man here, and then get back to the Capitol.
Happy hunting, Dan. You know where to reach me."

He strode down the aisle of the ship, leaving Dan staring bleakly at
an empty seat.

Paul, Paul--

* * * * *

He met Terry Fisher at the landing field in Las Vegas. A firm
handshake, clear brown eyes looking at him the way a four-year-old
looks at Santa Claus. "Glad you could come tonight, Senator. I've had
a busy couple of days. I think you'll be interested." Remarkable
restraint in the man's voice. His face was full of things unsaid. Dan
caught it; he knew faces, read them like typescript. "What is it,
son?"

"Wait until you see." Fisher laughed nervously. "I thought for a while
that I was back on Mars."

"Cigar?"

"No thanks. I never use them."

The car broke through darkness across bumpy pavement. The men sat
silently. Then a barbed-wire enclosure loomed up, and a guard walked
over, peered at their credentials, and waved them through. Ahead lay a
long, low row of buildings, and a tall something spearing up into the
clear desert night. They stopped at the first building, and hurried up
the steps.

Small, red-faced Lijinsky greeted them, al