dictatorship were completely behind the war and dutifully loved and hated their Empress, in whose name the order was signed.

A typical scene took place in the clubcar of the Char-Xil express. The occupants of the car, twenty-three commuting businessmen, sealed the doors as soon as they received Nob's order. The best-read among them, a salesman by the name of Thrang, was elected spokesman for the group.

"Boys," said Thrang, "I guess I don't have to tell you anything about the importance of this order. We all know what war is by now, don't we?"

"We sure do!"

"War is hell!"

"The war that the enemy thrust on us!"

"The war to start all wars!"

"That's right," Thrang said. "And I guess we've all felt the pinch since the war started. Eh, boys?"

"I've done my part," said a man named Draxil. "When the Prime Minister called for a cigarette shortage, I dumped twenty carloads of tobacco in the Hunto River. Now we got cigarette rationing!"

"That's the spirit," Thrang said. "I know for a fact that others among you have done the same with sugar, canned goods, butter, meat and a hundred items. Everything's rationed now; everyone feels the pinch. But, boys, there's still more we have to do. Now a spy situation has come up and it calls for quick action."

"Haven't we done enough?" groaned a clothing-store owner.

"It's never enough! In time of war, Earth people give till it hurts—then give some more! They know that no sacrifice is too much, that nothing counts but the proper prosecution of the war."

The clothing-store owner nodded vehemently. "If it's Earthly, it's good enough for me. So what can we do about this spy situation?"

"That is for us to decide here and now," Thrang said. "According to the Prime Minister, our dictatorship cannot boast a single act of espionage or sabotage done to it since the beginning of the war. The Chief of Security is alarmed. It's his job to keep all spies under 

 Prev. P 12/24 next