"Tell him yes, if necessary," Walton said. He glanced at his watch. 0917. It looked like it was going to be hectic all day. And Fred was due at 1100. XVI Hervey showed up at 1003, grinning broadly. He unfolded a thick wad of documents and thrust them at Walton. "I hold in my hand the world's most potent telefax sheet," Hervey said. He flipped the documents casually onto Walton's desk and laughed. "They're all yours. Fifty-one percent, every bit of it voting stock. I told Murlin about it just before I left him this morning. He turned purple." "What did he say?" "What _could_ he say? I asked him offhandedly if he knew where all the outstanding _Citizen_ stock was, and he said yes, it was being held by a lot of small holders. And then I told him that somebody was buying out the small holders, and that I was selling my four percent to him. That's when he started to change colors. When I left he was busy making phone calls, but I don't think he'll like what he's going to find out." Walton riffled through the papers. "It's all here, eh? Fine work. I'll put through your voucher in half an hour or so, unless you're in a hurry." "Oh, don't rush," Hervey said. He ran a finger inside his collar. "Couple of security boys outside, y'know. They really gave me a going-over." "I'm expecting an assassin at 1100," Walton said lightly. "They're on the lookout." "Oh? A close friend?" "A relative," Walton said. Fred arrived promptly at 1100. By that time Walton had already set the machinery in operation for the taking-over of _Citizen_. The first step had been to call Horace Murlin and confirm the fact that Popeek now owned the telefax sheet. Murlin's fleshy face was a curious shade of rose-purple; he sputtered at Walton for five minutes before admitting he was beaten. With Murlin out of the way, Walton selected a new editorial staff for the paper from a list Percy supplied. He intended to keep the reporting crew of the old regime intact; _Citizen_ had a fantastically efficient newsgathering team, and there was no point in breaking it up. It was the policy-making level Walton was interested in controlling. The 1000 edition of _Citizen_ was the last under the old editors. They had received word from Murlin about what had happened, and by 1030, when Walton sent his dismissal notices over, they were already cleaning out their desks. That 1000 edition was a beauty, though. The lead headline read: _ARE WE CHUMPS FOR THE GREENSKINS?_ And most of the issue was devoted to inflammatory pro-war anti-Popeek journalism. A full page of "letters from the readers"--actually transcribed phone calls, since few of _Citizen's_ readers were interested in writing letters--echoed the editorial stand. One "letter" in particular caught Walton's attention. It was from a Mrs. P.F. of New York City Environ, which probably meant Jersey or lower Connecticut, and it was short and to the point: _To the Editor_--