"Not important," Allen said. "As long as we see the finished products." He had studied the statement of projections in process; some were now scratched off, some had been put ahead, and most had been rerouted into dead-ends. The assembly lines were open and functioning, ready to undertake fresh material.

"What's that?" Gleeby asked, as Allen brought out sheets of lined paper.

"My preliminary sketches. What's the normal span required from first stage to last?"

"Well," Gleeby said, "say a packet is approved on Monday. Usually we take anywhere from a month to five months, depending on the medium it's to be projected over."

"Jesus," Allen said.

"It can be cut. For topical stuff we prune down to—" He computed. "Say, two weeks."

Allen turned to Harry Priar, who stood listening. "How's that strike you?"

"By the time you're out of here," Priar said, "you won't have one item done."

"I agree," Allen said. "Gleeby, to be on the safe side we'll have to prune to four days."

"That only happened once," Gleeby said, tugging at the lobe of his ear. "The day William Pease, Ida Pease Hoyt's father, died. We had a huge projection, on all media, within twenty-four hours."

"Even woven baskets?"

"Baskets, handbills, stenciled signs. The works."

Priar asked: "Anybody else going to be with us? Or is this the total crew?"

"I have a couple more people," Allen said. "I won't be sure until tomorrow." He looked at his watch. "They'd be at the top, as original idea men."

"Who are they?" Gleeby asked. "Anybody we know?"

"One of them is named Gates," he said. "The other is a man named Sugermann."

"Suppose I asked you what you're going to do?"

Allen said: "I'd tell you. We're going to do a jape on Major Streiter."

He was with his wife when the first plug was aired. At his direction a portable TV receiver was set up in their one-room apartment. The time was twelve-thirty at night; most of Newer York was asleep.

"The transmitting antenna," he told Janet, "is at the T-M building." Gleeby had collected enough video technicians to put the transmitter—normally closed down at that hour—back on the air.

"You're so excited," Janet said. "I'm glad you're doing this; it means so much to you."

"I only hope we can pull it off," he said, thinking about it.

"And afterward?" she said. "What happens then?"

"We'll see," he said. The plug was unfolding.

A background showed the ruins of the war, the aftermath of battle. The tattered rags of a settlement appeared; slow, halting motion of survivors creeping half-starved, half-baked through the rubble.

A voice said: "In the public interest a Telemedia discussion program will shortly deal with a problem of growing importance for our times. Participants will analyze the question: Should Major Streiter's postwar policy of active assimilation be revived to meet the current threat? Consult your area log for time and date."

The plug dissolved, carrying the ruins and desolation with it. Allen snapped off the TV set, and felt tremendous pride.

"What'd you think of it?" he asked Janet.

"Was that it?" She seemed disappointed. "There wasn't much."

"With variations, that plug will be repeated every half hour on all channels. Mavis' hit ‘em, hit ‘em. Plus plants in the newspapers, mentions on all the news programs, and minor hints scattered over the other media."

"I don't remember, what ‘active assimilation' was. And what's this ‘current threat'?"

"By Monday you'll have the whole story," Allen said. "The slam will come on ‘Pageant of Time.' I don't want to spoil it for you."

Downstairs on the public rack, he bought a copy of tomorrow's newspaper, already distributed. There, on page one, in the left-hand column, was the plant developed by Sugermann and Priar.

TALK OF REVIVING ASSIMILATION

Newer York Oct 29 (T-M),: It is reliably reported that a number of persons high in Committee circles who prefer to remain anonymous at this time, favor a revival of the postwar policy of active assimilation developed by Major Streiter to cope with the then- extensive threats to Moral Reclamation. Growing out of the current menace this revived interest in assimilation expresses the continued uneasiness of violence and lawlessness, as demonstrated by the savage assault on the Park of the Spire momument [sic] to Major Streiter. It is felt that the therapeutic method of Mental Health, and the efforts of the

Mental Health Resort to cope with current insta- bility and unrest, have failed to

Allen folded up the newspaper and went back upstairs to the apartment. Within a day or so the domino elements of the Morec society would be tipped. "Active assimilation" as a solution to the "curent [sic] threat" would be the topic of discussion for everybody.

"Active assimilation" was his brain child. He had made it up. Sugermann had added the idea of the "current threat." Between them they had created the topic out of whole cloth.

He felt well-pleased. Progress was being made.

CHAPTER 22

By monday mornnig [sic] the projection was complete. T-M workers, armed, carried it upstairs to the transmitter and stood guard over it. The Telemedia building was sealed off; nobody came and nobody went. During the day the hints, spots, mentions on various media dinned like pond frogs. Tension began to build, a sense of expectancy. The public was alive to the topic of "active assimilation," although nobody knew what it meant.

"Opinion" Sugermann said, "runs about two to one in favor of restoring a cautious policy of active assimilation." A poll had been taken, and the results were arriving.

"Active assimilation's too good for those rascals," Gates announced. "Let's have no coddling of traitors."

At a quarter of eight that evening, Allen assembled his staff in his office. The mood was one of optimism.

"Well," Allen said, "it won't be long. Another fifteen minutes and we're on the air. Anybody feel like backing out?"

Everybody grinned inanely.

"Got your dismissal notice yet?" Gates asked him.

The notice, from the Committee, had arrived registered mail. Now Allen opened the envelope and read the brief, formal statement. He had until noon Thursday. Then he was no longer Director of Telemedia.

"Give me the story on the follow-ups," he said to Gleeby.

"Pardon? Yes, um." From a prepared list Gleeby read him the total projected coverage. "Up to now it's been ground breakers. Tonight at eight comes the actual discussion. Tomorrow night a repeat of the discussion program will be aired, by ‘public demand.' "

"Better move that up," Allen said. "Allows too much time for them to act."

"Make it later tonight," Sugermann suggested. "About ten, as they're all popping into bed."

Gleeby scribbled a few words. "We've already mailed out duplicate films to the colonies. The discussion has been written up and will be printed in full in Tuesday morning's newspapers, plus comments pro and con. Late news programs tonight will give resumes. We've had the presses run off paper-bound copies to be sold in commissaries at magazine slots. Youth editions for school use have been prepared, but frankly, I don't imagine we can distribute them in time. It'll take another four days."

"And the poll," Sugermann added.

"Fine," Allen said. "For less than a week that's not bad."

A T-M employee entered. "Mr. Purcell, something's come up. Secretary Frost and Mrs. Hoyt are outside in a Committee Getabout. They want to be admitted."

"Peace party," Priar said.

"I'll talk to them outside," Allen said. "Show me where they are."

The employee led him to the ground floor and outside through the barricade erected before the entrance. In the back seat of a small blue Getabout sat the two women, bolt-upright, their faces pinched. Ralf Hadler was behind the tiller. He pretended not to notice or in any way conceive of Allen. They were not in the same world.