'No,' Briskin said, with calm; his long face remained unruffled.

'I'll tell you what to say in your speech for tonight,' Heim said, his back to Briskin. 'First, you once more describe your relationship with Frank Woodbine, because people go for space explorers; Woodbine is a hero, much more so than you or what's-his-name. You know; the man you're running against. The SRCD incumbent.'

'William Schwarz.'

Heim nodded exaggeratedly. 'Yes, you're right. Then after you gas about Woodbine - and we show a few shots of you and him standing together on various planets - then you make a joke about Dr Sands.'

'No,' Briskin said.

'Why not ? Is Sands a sacred cow ? You ain't touch him ?'

Jim Briskin said slowly, painstakingly, 'Because Sands is a great doctor and shouldn't be ridiculed in the media the way he is right now.'

'He saved your brother's life. By finding him a wet new liver just in the nick of time. Or he saved your mother just when...'

'Sands has preserved hundreds, thousands, of people. Including plenty of Cols. Whether they were able to pay or not.' Briskin was silent a moment and then he added, 'Also I met his wife

Myra and I didn't like her. Years ago I went to her; I had made a girl preg and we wanted abort advice.'

'Good!' Heim said violently. 'We can use that. You made a girl pregnant - that, when Nonovulid is free for the asking; that shows you're a provident type, Jim.' He tapped his forehead. 'You think ahead.'

'I now have five minutes,' Briskin said woodenly. He gathered up the pages of Phil Danville's speech and returned them to his inside coat pouch; he still wore a formal dark suit even in hot weather. That, and a flaming red wig, had been his trademark back in the days when he had telecast as a TV newsclown.

'Give that speech,' Heim said, 'and you're politically dead. And if you're...' He broke off. The door to the room had opened and his wife Patricia stood there.