WE WANT THE BLOOD OF SOLTAN GRIS!

Mobs took to marching in the streets singing it at the tops of their voices.

Actually, some time since, J. Walter Madison had fully expected Lord Turn to simply give in and say, "All right. I'll try him." And in the case of the Domestic Police, "Here he is. Try the Hells out of him."

If he could only get Gris on the stand accusing Hel­ler, Madison knew he would have it made.

But he had reached an impasse. The fury boiling in the streets was not moving Lord Turn up there in his high castle.

Other measures were needed.

Madison was busy far into the night, laying out his plans. There were several things he had to do. Amongst the first of them was to keep Lombar Hisst hopeful.

Accordingly, one morning, Madison caught Hisst at his desk before the closed door of the Emperor's bed­room. Hisst was going over the details of the invasion plan of Earth.

"How soon," he greeted Madison, "do you suppose we can have the cooperation of the Army and the Fleet? If they can supplant our Apparatus forces now active in the Calabar revolt, we can get on with invading Blito-P3 and bring it to heel."

"I'm working on that project day and night," said Madison. "In fact, that's what I'm here to see you about: that and the far more important question of making you Emperor. You see, all these things tie together neatly."

"How?" said Hisst.

"It's simply a matter of image," said Madison. "With enough image, you can do anything. Now what I need to know is what exact image do you favor? How do you want the public to think of you?"

Lombar sat back. His yellow eyes grew dreamy. "Totally formidable," he said finally.

"That's what I thought," said Madison. "A man of iron will. One who will brook no nonsense. The public yearns for strong and merciless control. The figure of a vengeful God."

"Exactly," said Lombar Hisst. "I have finally discovered why I listen to you. You are extremely perceptive and are not afraid to speak the truth to your superior."

"I only do my duty," said Madison. "Now, I know that you are very busy. But it just so happens that there are some riots going on at this minute in Slum City. It is a marvelous opportunity to create image. The mob is being contained by two battalions of the Apparatus. I have a camera crew standing by. If your good judgment tells you that you should utilize this priceless opportunity to create image, we can go there in your private tank and you'll be on Homeview in a trice."

"A mob," said Lombar, "that needs quelling? Where's my cap and stinger?"

An hour and a half later, Lombar stomped up the steps of the prepared stand before the faces of an assembled five thousand people. The Slum City square was cordoned off. For once Madison had not had to put out any money for extras or actors in such a demonstration. Due to the Gris publicity, the two Apparatus Death Battalions were having more trouble keeping additional spectators out than containing the ones that were in: they had tank roadblocks on every side street that entered the area.

Madison had handed Lombar his speech. It was a good speech: the horror-story writer, under Madison's close direction, had been up all night writing it.

In his red general's uniform, Lombar loomed above the crowd. The speakers boomed as he began to read his speech.

"Citizens of Voltar! You are misguided. Law and order must triumph every time above mob rule. Our domestic tranquillity must not be shattered by questions and challenge of your government. I stand here, strong and powerful, formidable and determined to crush all opposition to the sovereign state. In me you see the image of stern power! I will not ever retreat from my stern duty to bring all malefactors to trial."

A wave of satisfaction swept through the vast throng. Madison's camera crew, supplemented by three more camera crews from Homeview on the manager's own initiative, were carrying this speech to all Voltar and, on delay, to every other planet.

"I will have you know," roared Lombar, in fine form, "that the characters of Apparatus officers should not be impugned by the crimes of Soltan Gris. Apparatus officers are men of sterling virtue and unblemished honor. I am proud to number myself amongst them and to be their chief.

"The rivers of blood spilled by Gris, the graveyards jammed with corpses, are all the work of Gris and Gris alone. This foul fiend must not damage the brilliant innocence of other Apparatus officers or mine!

"My very soul cries out to do him justice. With these two hands I could separate his spine, vertebra by vertebra, and take the utmost pleasure in it. I would love to deliver him even into the hands of this mob and let him be dismembered!"

Wild cheering began at the back and swept forward in a roar.

When the hysteria died, Hisst swept on. "Alas, His Majesty lies ill, too ill to be disturbed, and in this time of public crisis, I do not wish for anything but tranquillity. I am therefore carrying forward His Majesty's deepest wish and I am assuming the temporary powers of Dictator of Voltar."

There was a shock of stillness. The crowd stared. They had never heard of such a post or position.

But the speech gave no time for discussion. Lombar had never heard of the position either. He had not read the speech beforehand. But suddenly, although he could not imagine what it might embrace, he accepted the post with a surge of unbridled elation. It was the stepping-stone he had been seeking.

Filled with divine fervor, he read on, "I pledge on my honor to bring peace to Voltar, tranquillity to its people, and I will stamp out ruthlessly any dissidence or question that will damage the state. I am backed by the sterling and honest officers of the Apparatus and I will gather in the support of every other branch of service, or else!

"Now, as to the matter of Gris, due to the obstructionism of the Royal prison, other means will have to be used. The danger is that this foul fiend will be released upon the population to work his will again. Fortunately, there is a new tool that can be used. It is called psychotherapy. It is that which will be employed. And I shall use my new powers to see that it is properly applied. So I promise you that the matter of Gris will be successfully concluded to the satisfaction of everyone."

The crowd was confused. Then they began to get the idea that psychotherapy must be some kind of torture. They began to cheer.

Lombar came to the last paragraph of his speech. He waited for a lull and then he boomed it out, "O population of the Confederacy! I promise you that I and all the other officers of the Apparatus, honest, unimpeachable and dedicated, will bring peace and order to the state no matter WHAT we have to do. I thank you!"

Delight raged. Lombar came down off the platform feet taller than he had climbed up it.

The two Death Battalions stood there dumbfounded. Their officers had to scream at them to block back the surging crowds so Lombar could get into his tank. The din of cheering for Lombar was deafening. He stood in the turret and waved. His tank took off.

"My Gods, Madison," he said, "your genius is almost as great as mine. But this post of dictator, won't it have to pass the Grand Council?"

Madison handed him the G. C. order, all stamped and signed. Only two members had been present but the pages were good pages. They had done what Teenie told them to.

"A man named Napoleon," said Madison, "moved from dictator to emperor with ease."

"GODS!" said Lombar, quivering. And for minutes he just stared into space.

It was not until they were flying across the Great Desert that Lombar spoke again. "You know, this opens the door to total cooperation by the Army and the Fleet. We will be able to handle both Calabar and Earth with ease. You seem to have solved everything. But I do have one question. What is this thing called psychotherapy? Some new long-distance method of execution?"