"Allah forbids the rendition of live figures," said a Moroccan. But he stood closer to get a better look.

A cab drew up and two diplomats got out. They started to walk to the desk but stopped and watched the painting.

Heller beckoned to Vantagio, Izzy and the other painters. He drew them back into Vantagio's office.

"You're going to cost us a fortune if you stop everybody who comes in that door," said Vantagio.

"Ah," said Heller, and he waved his hands just like an Italian, "think of the word of mouth. The advertising!"

"Maybe you better tell me this idea," said Vantagio, sitting down at his desk.

"Well," said Heller. "Izzy figured it this way. Now, this is strictly between you and Izzy but I will outline it. I told him I thought it was great.

"It goes like this. The UN is just going into session. We put an artist, easel and platform in the lobby." He turned to the painters. "How long does it take you to paint a really good, big portrait?"

They disagreed. But it seemed like anything from twelve hours to a week.

"Now, every night," Heller told Vantagio, "for one whole week, a good artist will be there in the lobby painting a nude. And every week, the painting and the nude will change. We will choose the girls who epitomize the beauty of each country. And each week, you feature a different country."

Vantagio sat up straight. Then he got up and began to pace, a bit excited.

"It has political advantages! Bargaining power!" said Vantagio. "They will push and prod to get their country featured early in the program! They will want to have a part in conceiving the subject matter."

Heller made an Italian gesture. "Ah, there you have it, Vantagio. Depend on you to grasp the nuance! This is a marketing program aimed at expansion and penetration. Your products will become known in every land. It puts a Gracious Palms commercial in every one of the top offices of every nation. And they will pay handsomely to exhibit the commercial itself! What the Gracious Palms needs is more penetration. Consumer desire will be aroused in every country on the planet and you will have a better market projection into your resources!"

Vantagio peeked out into the lobby. Heller stepped behind him. Minette, on the platform, had assumed pose after pose, despite the painter's pleas and was now exhibiting one whole leg while she cupped her breasts and smiled lasciviously at the crowd. The original ones who had paused were now feverishly signing up at the desk. Another was on the phone loudly telling his chief delegate he should drop whatever he was doing and rush over. The crowd around the easel had swelled.

"You see," said Heller, "it makes it all refined. It puts it in the world of art. The positioning of the

Gracious Palms is upgraded to number one instead of just a horizontal graph. It will be on top!"

Vantagio went back into his office. He began to pace up and down excitedly. Then he stopped and made an expansive Italian gesture. With glowing, visionary eyes, he said, "I can see it now! We've been taking it lying down! We've been guilty of practicing seasonal interruptus. We can spread this climax into a more bilateral approach, even multilateral. We've been practicing nonintervention! We have been underprivileging certain elite minorities!" Vantagio pounded a fist into his palm. "We need a wider spread internationally! And it will give us more consumer flow! They'll lap it up!"

Izzy said, "You can hang a whole gallery here in the lobby with the paintings for sale at very fancy prices. And you can put forms on the counter they can fill out to have girls of their choice painted for their offices and special gift forms for paintings so heads of state and leading politicians can come here and pick out a girl to be painted. And we can handle special trips for artists to go to their countries on special commission, accompanied by PRs to run beauty contests to select Miss Country Name with the grand prize of training and employment at the Gracious Palms. I just this minute formed a corporation called True Allure Fine Arts International, Incorporated—probably in Greece as we don't have one there—and these artists are all under contract to it. Our prices are high and the commission we get is twenty-five percent!"

"Excellentissimo!" cried Vantagio, lapsing into Italian from excitement. "D'accordo! Agreed!"

"I told you Izzy was pregnant with ideas," said Heller.

"The slack season!" said Vantagio. "Things go limp nine months of the year! This will stiffen up foreign trade!"

"We only want ten percent of the gross increase over last year's net," said Izzy.

"Marvelous!" said Vantagio.

Heller turned to the seven remaining painters who were standing there a bit goggle-eyed. "Now, I hope you gentlemen don't think you will be prostituting your art."

"Oh, no!" said the leading painter. "The proposition is too hard to refuse!" Behind him the others cried their assent.

"The name of the program," said Heller, "is Whore of the Week."

They all cheered.

The leading painter said, "Mister, whatever your name is, you're something out of this world!"

"Keep it to yourself," said Heller.

Izzy rushed around and got contract signatures from all eight painters on blank sheets he said he'd fill in. He scribbled a Memorandum Agreement In Principle and Vantagio signed it.

Then they left. As Heller walked out with Izzy, he said, "So that was my marketing project. Did I pass, Izzy?"

"Oy," said Izzy. "Just plain 'oy,' Mr. Jet!"

As they climbed into the cab, Izzy and Heller in back, Heller said, "Well, that was just fun mostly. But it also has its place."

"Fun?" said Izzy. "With neorealism in demand by the tops of every government, it will sweep the world! That project is worth millions! And every real revolution has to have its own art form. Neorealism! Things that look like what they are! Absolutely revolutionary in itself! Neorealism, the art of the people!"

Bang-Bang zoomed the cab out of the garage, heading back to the office. After a bit, Heller said, "Izzy. I've been checking it over and I think we can consider Phase One of the Master Plan complete."

I instantly went into a spin. Even my dulled senses could smell danger. WHAT plan?

In haste I prepared to go back through the older recorded strips. And a moment later, I stared at my equipment in horror. In all my recent travail, I had overlooked loading the recording strip reservoir! I didn't have any back track to look at!

WHAT PLAN!?!?!

Geological surveys and a legation and a diploma and Gods knew what else. I knew Heller! This would all come together some way with a huge black eye for me. Death, even!

A sort of savage feeling began to grip me. Heller and all this success with women. Wasn't it his fault that I had gotten into all this mess in the first place? And if he hadn't been distracting me, I wouldn't be in any trouble with Utanc!

A burning, bitter hatred of Heller began to sear through me.

The following day, I was wandering about after a sleepless night and bitter morning and chanced to look at the viewscreen.

I was startled to see Heller was driving along in the cab! There was no sign of Bang-Bang and, as he turned to check a sign, there was nobody in the back seat!

He was driving in New York! It was illegal! By his license, he was not yet eighteen!

I looked at my watch. It was not yet 6:00 A.M. in Heller's zone!

With a savage curse, I sat down to watch and study this. He was off on some new tack!

I watched for signs. He was on Franklin D. Roosevelt Drive and by the horizon light of dawn, he was travelling north. I got out an Octopus Oil Company map of that area. Where was he going? Why?

The old cab was really purring. Heller seemed quite happy and relaxed. He was going faster than Bang-Bang drove but he didn't seem to be having any trouble.