"You made out all right when you doublecrossed them before." "Nope." Mike thrust out his weak chin. "They'd rub me out." "Okay. But being rubbed out is better than rotting by inches when our V-60's begin to drop. You won't look pretty, Mike, when your nose and ears fall off; when your flesh starts peeling from your bones because of the gamma rays. Then, there's that palace of yours ... and your harem." "Oh stop it, Sadie. Stop it! You win!" His knuckle was bleeding by now. "How about dropping out to the palace tonight? The chairman is coming over. I'll try to sell your plan to him. You won't hold it against me, will you, if he doesn't buy?" "He'll buy ... one way or another," the girl said grimly. "Swell." The commandant jumped up with a lightning-like change of mood. "Let's go, then. The little women will be waitin' for me." * * * * * After they were aboard his shiny black plane Mike asked jovially: "What kinda entertainment would you like tonight? I been tinkerin' with some of Nero's old stunts.... Incors to the scamours and stuff like that.... Not bad for a change." "A little too close to home right now." Frank shuddered. "How about a scamour hunt, then, before dinner? There's scads of them critters around the palace. They keep me fresh out of slaves." "Swell." There was nothing Frank wanted less than a brush with those gobbling reptiles, but he knew Mike needed gentle handling if he were to go through with his bargain. "Like it?" beamed the little Big Shot as they landed on the roof of a rococco monstrosity which must have cost millions. "Gorgeous!" beamed his guests. Mike's harem, twenty beauties of every race, color and state of deshabille, was waiting for them. Squealing with synthetic glee, the girls bore them on embroidered litters to their quarters. These resembled glorified hotel suites replete with gold-plated bathrooms, priceless tapestries and uncomfortable furniture. "What awful taste the beast has," laughed Sadie as she dunked her long-legged body in a scented and mirrored pool. "And to think I once wanted to be a Big Shot ... wanted to be one so desperately that I tried to rob a joint like this." "What happened?" He was eyeing her appreciatively. "Oh I was caught, of course. They slapped me in a concentration camp. See that scar? It's a burn I got in the uranium mines. That's where I joined the Underground." "Funny place to have a scar," he grinned. "Get out of that pool and help me put on this cursed armor.... Are all their palaces like this one?" "Worse!" She dripped water down his back. "Huge, gloomy holes where bored gangsters try to pretend they're having a wonderful time. The Big Shots are just Incors who made their pile and are out to show off like wicked children. Well, tonight let's pretend we're wicked children too." "That shouldn't be hard for you." He helped the girl don her own light armor. "Sometimes I think you're a potential Big Shot still, at heart."