“We are!” they chorused.

“Then report. “ I slipped out of my formal clothes and into my fighting gear. Bolivar read from his notes.

“All major news items are issued by the Ministry of Information to the various media. Resident censors monitor the final copy at each newspaper and at the Broadcasting Center. Pre-recorded news goes from there to the satellites for rebroadcast on radio and television.” “How many satellites are there?” “Eighteen of them, in geostationary orbits. They blanket the planet. Their signals are either received by personal dish antennas or communal piped systems.” “That’s the news I have been waiting to hear,” I chortled as I zipped up my soft-soled shoes. “We will just have to forget the newspapers for the moment. It would be too much trouble to sabotage each and every one of them. In any case. I’m sure the broadcast media are the most popular. And vulnerable. What we need next are floorplans of the Broadcasting Center and a diagram of their technical setup. “ Bolivar handed me the first, James the second. It was almost too much. I coughed away what might have been a sob and hoped they didn’t notice the glisten in the old stainless steel rat’s eyes. What fine lads they were, how intelligent in the application of their benevolent crockery!

“We’ve compared one to the other,” Bolivar said, flipping through the floorplans, then stabbing down his finger.

“And are pretty sure that we have found the weak spot,” James said, finishing the sentence, a finger firmly planted on his diagram. I bent to look as they traced their way through the details.

“These are the microwave transmitters that shoot the signals around the planet for rebroadcast to the satellites that are out of line of sight.” “And here are the two channels coming out of the program section, radio here-TV here...” “They go through these cables located in this conduit-which just happens to have an access door in the basement of the building...” “Here!” I added, stabbing down a finger and we all smiled and nodded like fools. “But this will need a sophisticated circuit interrupter that will be small and hard to spot, yet will still enable us to cut off their signals and substitute our own whenever we wish. Now where could we possibly find devices I;G,,bn,2’~ James took one from his pocket. Bolivar took out the other.

“Boys, I’m proud of you,” I said, and I meant every word of it. The interrupters were flat cannisters, each small enough to fit on the palm of my hand, with a switch and a bundle of thin wires at one end.

“Self-powered,” Bolivar said. “Atomic batteries. Run for years. This lead goes to an outside aerial, while these are spliced into the interior circuits. That’s all there is to it. When the correct signal is received the material that Zapilote’s technicians are sending out is cut off and whatever signal we are broadcasting will go out in its place. They will think that they are sending out their news reports-but instead they will be broadcasting ours.” .” “That’s good,” I said. “But only for a one shot. Once their broadcasts have been sabotaged they will shut down and search until they find these. We will have to go though the whole thing again when we make a second broadcast on election eve. And it will be much harder to set this thing up a second time.” James opened a box while I talked and took out two goodsized hunks of electronic apparatus. “We thought you might have that possibility in mind. So we put these together. They’re dummies, full of circuit boards and wiring, that we attach in a slightly more obvious location. They have only one function. If they are disturbed or examined in any way, a thermite device inside is actuated that will then burn them to slag.” “A neat bit of misdirection that will certainly work. Now let’s get out there and do the job so we can sleep peacefully tonight. “ “Dad, Bolivar and I can take care of this ourselves. You must be tired, .. “ “I am. Of being a politician. You wouldn’t deprive me of a chance for a little excitement, would you?” “They would if I could have my way,” Angelina said, speaking for the first time. “But I know you too well. So get out there with your delinquent children and crawl around in the sewers or whatever it is you enjoy doing. But don’t expect me to wait up for you.” I kissed her firmly for her understanding and we exited into the night. By way of the back stairs and an unmarked car. Nor were we followed. We parked a street away from Broadcasting Center, then made our way into it. I mean we didn’t exactly go through the front door, but we did penetrate without too much trouble from the alarm system. We shorted it out and entered unseen through a basement window. After that it was just a matter of Bnding the right doorway. The sub-basements were filled with fully automated machinery and empty at this time of night. There was one supervisor at his station, but he was easily avoided. The hookup was a simple one, with the dummy circuit boxes concealed by a partition, while the real bits of circuitry were put under the wire bundle and sealed into the flooring.

“Perfect,” I said, dusting off my hands and admiring the result of our labors. “Let us now return for a refreshing drink and a look at the substitute programs that our minions are now preparing.” Getting out unseen was just as easily accomplished as had been our entrance. Our car was waiting and there was no one in sight.

I opened the car door and the light came on.

There was a man sitting there, pointing a large pistol at my head and smiling at the same time. Someone very disgustingly familiar.

“So you are Hector Harapo now, and no longer a simple offworld tourist,” Captain Oliveira said, “I warned you at our last meeting not to return to this planet. Now that you have been so rash as to come back you can only blame yourself for the conseniiences.”

Chapter 22

As he spoke these words the street was bathed with eyesearing light. It was a trap-and well sprung. “There were searchlights on top of the buildings and troops pouring out of the doorways. All we could do was surrender.

“Please don’t shoot!” I shouted. “We surrender. Surrender, my men, that is an order. Douchan qounboula!” I hoped that the boys would remember this repellent alien language-and they did! Although their hands were in the air, like mine, they could still actuate their smoke bomb releases by crossing their wrists-which I had just ordered them to do. The last thing I saw was the cheering sight of them vanishing in the roiling clouds that sprang up all around them.

I buried myself aside just as Oliveira fired. The bullet whistled by so close that I felt my hair stir in the breeze of its passage. Before he could fire again I flipped one of my own smoke bombs into the car, following it instantly with a sleep capsule.

I doubt if ten seconds had passed since the moment that I had opened the car door. In that brief time things had changed drastically. The street was filled with vision-obscuring smoke and loud with shouted orders, whistles blowing, the roar of engines and the hoarse cries of attacking men.

“Add more smoke and mix it with sleeping gas!” I called out in the same alien language. “I’m going to start a diversion with this car-then you both make a break for it!” If I could draw all the attention to myself the boys might have a chance. I groped my way into the car, pushed Oliveira’s limp body aside, then started the engine. As I kicked it into gear I twisted the wheel away from the boys and stamped down hard on the accelerator. The car jumped forward, picking up speed, the smoke thinned-then vanished to be replaced 122 by searing light. I squinted against the glare and saw that I was about to run down a squad of terrified soldiers.

I dragged on the wheel and missed them by centimeters, still moving at top speed, to plow headlong into an armored car.