He felt a tremor of self-doubt. Maybe it had been unwise to let kaleidowhirl propaganda loose on the world; once unleashed, it might not be so easily caged again. He realized that as soon as the Popeek campaign was over, he would have to make sure some method was devised for pre-checking all public and closed-channel kaleidoscopic patterns. The most damnable part of such propaganda techniques, he knew, was that you could put over almost any idea at all without arousing suspicion on the part of the viewer. He wouldn't know he'd been tampered with; you could tell him so, after the new idea had been planted, and by then he wouldn't believe you. Walton dialed another filtered rum, and lifted it to his lips with a slightly shaky hand. * * * * * "Mr. Ludwig of the United Nations called while you were out, sir," Walton was told upon returning to his office. "He'd like you to call him back." "Very well. Make the connection for me." When Ludwig appeared, Walton said, "Sorry I missed your call. What's happening?" "Special session of the Security Council just broke up. They passed a resolution unanimously and shipped it on to the Assembly. There's going to be an immediate hearing to determine the new permanent head of Popeek." Walton clamped his lips together. After a moment he said, "How come?" "The Dirnan crisis. They don't want a mere interim director handling things. They feel the man dealing with the aliens ought to have full UN blessing." "Should I interpret that to mean I get the job automatically?" "I couldn't swear to it," said Ludwig. "General consensus certainly favors you to continue. I'd advise that you show up at the hearing in person and present your program in detail; otherwise they may stick some smooth-talking politico in your place. The noise is slated to start at 1100, day after tomorrow. The eighteenth." "I'll be there," Walton said. "Thanks for the tip." He chewed the end of his stylus for a moment, then hastily scribbled down the appointment. As of now, he knew he couldn't worry too strongly about events taking place the day after tomorrow--not with Fred arriving for a show-down the next morning. * * * * * The next day began busily enough. Hervey was the first to call. "The _Citizen's_ sewed up, Roy! I had dinner with Murlin last night and weaseled him out of four percent of _Citizen_ stock in exchange for a fancy tip on the new monorail project out Nevada way. He was grinning all over the place--but I'll bet he's grinning out of the other side of his mouth this morning." "Is it all arranged?" Walton asked.