"Well?" asked Grey.

Herman looked unconcerned. "Buy Italy, of course."

And Grey nodded. It was a kind of ritual, but the game laws specified that a place in the game only be purchased when the player was awake-- there must always be a waking player at the computer.

Well, I'm awake, Herman said. And unless things had changed considerably, this was the waking when he'd make the grand play-- to end the game by conquering the world.

The computer wall was already warmed up when he got to his flat-- another thoughtful gesture from Grey. Herman tortured himself as he always did, ignoring the screen, refusing to look at it; pretending the computer wasn't waiting for him as he toured the flat, made sure all the arrangements were correct. Herman wasn't really rich; only mildly well-to-do. He couldn't afford to keep an empty flat while he was under. His belongings were stored, instead, or sold each time. Someday, though, I'll be rich enough, he thought. Someday I'll get to the really high somec levels, like five years under for three months up. And I'll own a flat, not just lease one for a waking.

It was everyone's dream, of course. Everyone's plan. And one out of every seven million people in the Empire made it. Horatio Alger is alive and well forever.

At last, orange juice drunk, bed bounced on, woman for the night paid for and picked out, toilet used, he allowed himself to settle down comfortably in the chair before the computer module. But still he kept the screen dead. He punched out the code for Europe 1914d.

He had been twenty-two when he had first decided to invest some of his money in the expensive hobby of International Games. It had cost him two months' salary, and he had only been able to buy a third-ranked position in Italy in the start of a new game. He had chosen Europe 1914, even though it was the fourth game of that name, because he had specialized in twentieth-century strategies in his small-game playing. And now, with an interplanetarily broadcast game, he'd have a chance to see if he was really as good as he had thought.

I am that good, he reminded himself now, flashing on the holo. The globe appeared before him, and he studied it. First the weather patterns were shown; then the political map.

"How is it?" asked Grey, appearing quietly behind Herman.

"Lovely. No one has tried anything rash. Good caretakers."

Italy showed up as pink on the map. Herman remembered the beginning-- an Italy newly united, weak, unsure whether to join Germany and Austria-Hungary. In the real twentieth century, no one of any force had emerged in Italy until after the 1914 War. No one until that nincompoop Mussolini. But in Europe 1914d, Italy had Herman Nuber, and even though he was a third-ranked player, he had bet quite a bit on himself-- and on Italy.

It was three years before his daytime work earned Herman enough money to go on somec for the first time. In that time he had married, had a daughter, and divorced. No time for marriage. She didn't like it when he spent all night on the game. But it had been worth it, in the long run. A bit painful, some emotional scenes, but at the end of the three years, Herman's bets paid off. Forty to one. He had driven out other, less skillful players, and when he went under somec, he did it as dictator of Italy, and Italy had turned savagely on Austria-Hungry, brilliantly defeated the Prussian army (oh, no, actually German, he reminded himself. Have to keep the periods straight) near Munich, and a peace treaty had been signed. America never joined the war, much to the chagrin of the players who had paid heavily for that choice position, only to see it become useless in the real game.

Italy, then, had been the major power in eastern Europe. But now, Herman saw with a smile, Italy was Europe, the entire continent pink, and most of Asia as well. His last waking had been the consummation of the struggle with Russia. And now Italy stood poised on the Pacific, on the Indian Ocean through Persia, and on the Atlantic, ready to try for everything.

"Looks very good, doesn't it?" Herman asked Grey, who was still silent.

"For the Italy player, it does," said Grey, and Herman turned in surprise.

"You mean you didn't buy it?"

Grey looked a little embarrassed. "Actually," he said, "I was afraid of this."

"Afraid of what?"

"Someone's apparently been speculating in Italy. My staff gave me the report when I came up three weeks ago. Someone's been buying and selling Italy in closed bids ever since you went under last."

"That's illegal!"

"Weep, then. We've done it ourselves, you know. Shall we call in an investigation? All the books open?"

"Why didn't you get a good proxy and keep it?"

"They pulled it off again, Herman. The bidding was last night at midnight. Not precisely prime time. But I placed my bid. Frankly, it was ridiculously high. But no taker. The player who got it bid twice what I did."

"Then you should have bid higher still!"

Grey shook his head. "Couldn't. I only have fifty percent power of attorney, remember?"

Herman gasped in spite of himself. "Fifty percent! Grey, fifty percent? It was more than fifty?"

Grey nodded. "More than fifty liquid, anyway. I couldn't match it. Not from your funds. And I just didn't have enough loose money around to add any of my own."

"Well, who's the player?"

"Believe it or not, Herman, it's an assistant minister of colonization, a real flunkie. It's his first time in the broadcast games. No record at all. And no way he could have the money to buy that place in the game himself."

"Find out who the organization is, Grey, and buy that position."

Grey shook his head. "I don't have enough money. Whoever's buying it is serious, and they've got more money than you."

Herman felt weak and cold. This was not expected. Of course there were always speculators in the games. But Herman always paid well for his position, and because he had contributed most to the slot, when he was awake no one could buy Italy but him, as long as he offered at least fifteen percent over the last purchase price. But now the purchase price had been more than half his wealth.

"It doesn't matter," Herman told Grey. "Borrow. Liquidate. I'll give you ninety percent power of attorney. But buy Italy."

"What if they won't sell?"

Herman leaped to his feet, so that he towered (delicious!) over Grey. "They can't! They can only sell to me. They have to be speculating on stripping me. Well, let 'em. This time Italy takes over the world, Grey. And the bets won't be just seventeen percent. We'll be in for the long odds. Do you understand?"

"They don't have to sell to you, Herman," Grey said. "The player who has it isn't on somec."

"I don't care. I'll outlast them. They have to quit sometime. Pay their price. They have a price."

Grey nodded, unsure. Herman turned away, and heard Grey shuffle softly through the carpet as he left. Herman switched on the screen as his stomach churned. Italy was valuable, but only because of Herman Nuber. Only a genius could have taken that second-rate country and made it a world power. Only Herman Nuber, the greatest International Game player in history, dammit. They're just trying to rob me, Herman concluded. Well, let 'em.

And then, though he knew it would torture him, he flashed the screen through to a close-up of current military operations by the Italian Empire. There was a border skirmish in Korea. India was becoming hostile. The Italian agents were doing well at subverting Japanese rule in Arabia.

Everything's perfect, Herman said softly. In three days I can have this game flying. In three days, if I can once get Italy.

Grey didn't come or call all day. By evening, Herman was a nervous wreck. He had already had to watch as three perfect opportunities for quick, decisive action had been missed by the idiot playing Italy. Of course, that kind of thing happened all the time when Herman was on somec-- but he was asleep, he didn't have to watch. And still Grey didn't come.