The look she gave him was so meaningful and the pop of her bubblegum so explosive that Madison hastily left. She might suspect that this really was a double cross. He wasn't after Gris at all-his real target was Heller-Wister, for only in that way could he come right with Mr. Bury. With Heller-Wister fully handled on Voltar, Madison could only then return to Earth a conquering hero-and not be shot as a deserter.

He hoped Teenie realized that PR was intricate and complex and wasn't done in a minute. The thing to keep your attention on was thoroughness-and GETTING HEADLINES!

Madison knew the image he would have to complete: it was that of a folk hero on the model of Jesse James, and how well he was researched in such images now-in the yacht he had travelled all over studying famous outlaws. Heavens, he fairly ached to put it into effect.

He knew just how to attain results: Coverage, Controversy and Confidence.

What he lacked here on Voltar were Connections, another C which he had always had on Earth.

Well, first things first. He had better get organized. He didn't even have a secretary, much less a string of obedient editors and publishers. Money. That was what he better start with first.

As he climbed into his airbus, he said to Flick, "How do I get my identoplate changed? Where do I go?"

"You going to get PAID? Oh, you just lie back on the seat there and relax and I'll have you to the Government City Finance Office twice as fast as this junk heap will go!"

They took off in a blur. They rushed through the Palace City gates, outbound, so fast Madison hardly had time to get nauseated from the time shift to thirteen minutes earlier.

As he drove frantically across the Great Desert, Flick said, "Oh, but am I tired of eating stale sweetbuns out of garbage pails like we been doing! You also owe me a pack of puffsticks. And I know a rooming house where we can get a room real cheap. Do you feel all right? Are you comfortable? Should I turn on some music?"

Madison was not paying much attention. He was trying to work out how he would go about setting up in such unknown terrain. Then he got off into headlines that kept drifting through his head: 18 point, FLEET OFFICER GOES RENEGADE but he kept discarding them. They were sort of pale and lacked punch. He realized this would require a lot of careful planning to really make it good. He had no support troops, he had no lines and the fact that these people on Voltar were ignorant of real PR was both a blessing and a curse. Every trick of the trade would be brand-new to them, but on the other hand, there were no traditional supports. It was sort of like a man approaching a virgin: the question was, how willing would she be to be raped?

His thinking was interrupted by Flick. The driver had gotten out, opened Madison's door and was now anxiously cautioning him not to trip on the ramp as he alighted. Madison was startled to see how much time had elapsed. They were at the Finance Department.

Following the anxious directions of Flick, Madison went by himself through the scurrying crowds and came shortly to a counter which had a sign:

Identoplate Changes

A bored clerk, in a working coverall to protect his suit, finished downgrading the pay of a disgruntled teacher who had been transferred to a lesser school and turned to Madison. Without interest, he examined the papers. He reached over for his plate-changing machine and then suddenly looked back at the form.

"UNLIMITED PAY?" He went boggle-eyed. He hastily pushed buzzers and Madison found himself surrounded on every hand by Finance Department Security Police.

An officer took the Change of Pay form through a door while the others just stood and stared at Madison. The officer could be seen punching buttons and turning on lights that apparently verified codes hidden in identoplates.

When he came back, he held on to the form and waited. It made Madison very nervous.

Shortly, an old man with a Finance Department executive badge came behind the counter and the officer gave him the form.

"I can't understand it," the officer said. "It's genuine."

"This is impossible!" said the aged executive. "Unlimited pay status? He could buy the planet!"

"Well, it's your business now," said the officer, and at a signal all the Finance Police left. But all along the counters, the word had spread and clerks and others were peering at Madison and whispering.

Another executive came behind the counter and the first one handed him the form and said, "Gods, look at this, Cipho. That guy Hisst gets crazier every day! It's a valid order. But what do we do?"

Cipho said, "What allocations would it come out of? Let me see the other papers."

They examined them minutely. They conferred. Madison got very nervous. He said, "Is there something wrong?"

The first executive looked at him. "We can't determine what budget it comes out of. Your rank is PR man, whatever that is, and it's in the Apparatus. Your pay status says No Pay-P, so that means you were to be attached to Palace City. Hisst signed this authorization not only as Chief of the Apparatus but also as Spokesman for His Majesty, so that would make it Royal. We can't determine which letter designation to put after the new pay status. I'm afraid you will have to come back."

Madison's stomach rumbled. He thought of his image with Flick. He thought of Teenie's meaningful look. He thought of his anxiety to get started. "Is there no way it can be done now?"

"Well, it's dangerous," said Cipho. "You might overdraw somebody's budget. You might decide to buy Industrial City or something and then you'd jam all our computers."

"What kind of money is in those budgets?" said Madison desperately.

They went in the other room and came back. Cipho said, "The Apparatus is nearly overdrawn because of the revolt on Calabar. Palace City is nearly empty now, so its allocation is only 50 percent utilized. The Royal expenditures have dropped to almost nothing."

"Money," begged Madison. "How much money is in them?"

"There's a billion Palace City that won't be used and about four billion Royal."

Madison's hopes soared. "Look, just give me a pay status on all three."

"Hmm," said Cipho.

"Look," said Madison, putting on his most earnest and sincere face, "I am a reasonable man. If I guarantee to advise you if I intend to draw more than a billion at any one time and confer with you, will you make it a pay status for all three? That way it would only debit from existing funds."

"You'd have to put it in writing," glowered Cipho.

"It would keep the computers from locking up," said the first executive. "Give him some paper."

They got the signed and stamped undertaking and marked his identoplate Pay Status: Unlimited-APR.

Madison accepted it with a very straight face. Never in his whole career had he ever had a billion-dollar drawing account! Oh, what he could do with that!

They had the look of men who had bested him. And he was very solemn as he walked away.

A BILLION-DOLLAR DRAWING ACCOUNT!

On the way out, Madison put his new identoplate to use. At the cash-withdrawal counter the pretty girl there looked at the identoplate and stared at him round-eyed. "Unlimited pay status?" she gulped. "How... how much cash do you want?"

Madison gave her the first figure that came into his head. "Oh, fifty thousand for now."

She scratched her head. "That will be an awful wad. It will ruin the shape of your suit. Wait right there. I'll see if we have some thousands."

She came back with a neat pack and while she was stamping things, Madison looked at the banknotes. It was the first time he had seen any Voltar money up close. It was gold-colored paper, quite pretty. It sparkled. He petted it. Very nice.