HE held the sketch at arm's length and studied it, frowning: Presently he locked up. "Listen, dopes -- Why not do it? Give me one last edition with some guts in it. Are you game?"
Clevum looked worried. "Well...I don't know...What are you going to use for money? Besides, even if Oric would crack loose from the dough, how would we get an edition of that size distributed thai; well? And even if we did get it done, it might boomerang on us-the opposition would have the time and money to answer it."
Robar looked disgusted. "That's what a guy gets for having ideas in this campaign-nothing but objections, objections!"
"Wait a minute, Robar," Dolph interposed. "Clevum's kicks have some sense to them, but maybe you got something. The idea is to make Joe Citizen laugh at Vortus, isn't it? Well, why not fix up some dodgers of my cartoon and hand 'em out at the polling places on election day?"
Robar drummed on the table as he considered this. "Umm, no, it wouldn't do. Vortus' goon squads would beat the hell out of our workers and high jack our literature."
"Well, then how about painting some big banners with old Bat Ears on them? We could stick them up near each polling place where the voters couldn't fail to see them."
"Same trouble. The goon squads would have them down before the polls open."
"Do you know what, fellows," put in Clevum, "what we need is something big enough to be seen and too solid for Governor's plug-uglies to wreck. Big stone statues about two stories high would be about right."
Robar looked more pained than ever. "Clevum, il you can't be helpful, why not keep quiet? Sure, statues would be fine-if we had forty years and ten million simoleons."
"Just think, Robar." Dolph jibed, with an irritating smile, "if your mother had entered you for the priesthood, you could integrate all the statues you want-no worry, no trouble, no expense."
"Yeah, wise guy, but in that case I wouldn't be in politics -- Say!"
" 'S trouble?"
"Integration! Suppose we could integrate enough statues of old Picklepuss -- "
"How?"
"Do you know Kondor?"
"The moth-eaten old duck that hangs around the Whirling Whale?"
"That's him. I'll bet he could do it!"
"That old stumblebum? Why, he's no adept; he's just a cheap unlicensed sorcerer. Reading palms in saloons and a little jackleg horoscopy is about all he's good for. He can't even mix a potent love philter. I know; I've tried him."
"Don't be too damn certain you know all about him. He got all tanked up one night and told me the story of his life. He used to be a priest back in Egypt."
"Then why isn't he now?"
"That's the point. He didn't get along with the high priest. One night he got drunk and integrated a statue of the high priest right where it would show up best and too big to be missed-only he stuck the head of the high priest on the body of an animal."
"Whew!"
"Naturally when he sobered up the next morning and saw what he had done all he could do was to run for it. He shipped on a freighter in the Red Sea and that's how come he's here."
Clevum's face had been growing longer and longer all during the discussion. He finally managed to get in an objection. "I don't suppose you two red hots have stopped to think about the penalty for unlawful use of priestly secrets?"
"Oh, shut up, Clevum. If we win the election, Talus'11 square it. If we lose the election -- Well, if we lose, Mu won't be big enough to hold us whether we pull this stunt or not."
ORIC was hard to convince. As a politician he was always affable; as campaign manager for Talus, and consequently employer of Robar, Dolph, and Clevum, the boys had sometimes found him elusive, even though chummy.
"Ummm, well, I don't know -- " He had said, "I'm afraid Talus wouldn't like it."
"Would he need to know until it's all done?"
"Now, boys, really, ah, you wouldn't want me to keep him in ignorance..."
"But Oric, you know perfectly well that we are going to lose unless we do something, and do it quick."
"Now, Robar, you are too pessimistic." Oric's pop eyes radiated synthetic confidence.
"How about that straw poll? We didn't look so good; we were losing two to one in the back country."
"Well...perhaps you are right, my boy." Oric laid a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "But suppose we do lose this election; Mu wasn't built in a day. And I want you to know that we appreciate the hard, unsparing work that you boys have done, regardless of the outcome. Talus won't forget it, and neither shall, uh, I...It's young men like you three who give me confidence in the future of Mu -- "
"We don't want appreciation; we want to win this election."
"Oh, to be sure! To be sure! So do we all-none more than myself. Uh-how much did you say this scheme of yours would cast?"
"The integration won't cost much. We can offer Kon-dor a contingent fee and cut him in on a spot of patronage. Mostly we'll need to keep him supplied with wine. The big item will be getting the statues to the polling places. We had planned on straight commercial appor-tation."
"Well, now, that will be expensive."
"Dolph called the temple and got a price -- "
"Good heavens, you haven't told the priests what you plan to do?"
"No, sir. He just specified tonnage and distances."
"What was the bid?"
Robar told him. Oric looked as if his first born were being ravaged by wolves. "Out of the question, out of the question entirely," he protested.
But Robar pressed the matter. "Sure it's expensive -- but it's not half as expensive as a campaign that is just good enough to lose. Besides-I know the priesthood isn't supposed to be political, but isn't it possible with your connections for you to find one who would do it on the side for a smaller price, or even on credit? It's a safe thing for him; if we go through with this we'll win-it's a cinch."