The congressman was on the best of terms with the Air Force--possibly because he held appointments on three appropriations committees. The Air Force had been delighted to fly him up from Washington that morning, and had been eager to fly him right into the disaster area in a helicopter; but Representative Akslund himself had put his foot down about that. Transport planes were one thing; helicopters were something else. So the last fifteen miles of his trip were in a car furnished through the courtesy of the state police. "Unbelievable," he murmured--but enunciating every syllable crisply and clearly. "It looks as if a war had been fought over every inch of this lovely countryside. I estimate the damage I have already seen is in the millions." Out of the corner of his eye he observed that the AP man who had tagged along wasn't writing anything down. Disappointing; but Akslund was too old a hand to try to hint about it. The AP man would be with him for a good many hours yet. There was plenty of time for direct quotes. The police car ahead sounded its siren. The congressman craned his neck. "Road block," the driver explained. "They'll pass us right through, sir." But they didn't. The driver of the car ahead stuck out his arm and semaphored a stop; the congressman's chauffeur braked sharp and smooth, and stopped a yard away from the other car's bumper. A state trooper on point duty walked over and said, "Sorry to hold you up, sir. You can pass, of course, but there's a man here who says he--" Artie Chesbro appeared, panting. He stuck his hand in the open window. "Good to see you again, Halmer," he said. "I'm Artie Chesbro. State delegation. Perhaps you remember our little chat at the Waldorf last year--the fund dinner." Representative Akslund opened the matchless filing case in his head and riffled through the cards. He remembered. "Glad to see you again, Chesbro. Are you in this mess?" "Up to my eyebrows. From the very start. There were eight of us trapped in a building all night long; one was killed by gasoline fumes, another's in the hospital with pneumonia this minute. But that's not the point. I've been thinking heavily about relief and reconstruction, Halmer, and I've developed some ideas I'd like to share with you. Mind if I come along?" Representative Akslund noticed that the AP man was scribbling at last. Eight trapped all night, one dead, one dying. This Chesbro knew what he was talking about. His interests were medium-big and diversified, said the _Chesbro_ card in Akslund's head; he'd be able to give him the sound businessman's viewpoint. Akslund knew he had to move fast; the first public figure to hit the headlines and newscasts with a formal plan would skim the publicity cream. How to be a statesman-humanitarian in one easy lesson. Chesbro would save him time. "Get in," he told Artie. "Room for my assistant, Miss Froman?" Artie asked. "Of course, Chesbro. I need facts and I need them fast."