Ensign Thomas Grayson took over the command of his destroyer when its captain was killed on his bridge. An electrified crew saw the strange, brooding youngster perform prodigies of skill and courage, and responded to them. In one week of desultory action the battered destroyer had accounted for seven Soviet destroyers and a cruiser. As soon as this penetrated to the flagship, Grayson was decorated and given a flotilla. His weird magnetism extended to every officer and man aboard the seven craft. They struck like phantoms, cutting out cruisers and battlewagons in wild unorthodox actions that couldn't have succeeded but did--every time. Grayson was badly wounded twice, but his driving nervous energy carried him through. He was decorated again and given the battlewagon of an ailing four-striper. Without orders he touched down on the Soviet side of Io, led out a landing party of marines and bluejackets, cut through two regiments of Soviet infantry, and returned to his battlewagon with prisoners: the top civil and military administrators of Soviet Io. They discussed him nervously aboard the flagship. "He has a mystical quality, Admiral. His men would follow him into an atomic furnace. And--and I almost believe he could bring them through safely if he wanted to." The laugh was nervous. "He doesn't look like much. But when he turns on the charm--watch out!" "He's--he's a _winner_. Now I wonder what I mean by that?" "I know what you mean. They turn up every so often. People who can't be stopped. People who have everything. Napoleons. Alexanders. Stalins. Up from nowhere." "Suleiman. Hitler. Folsom I. Jenghis Khan." "Well, let's get it over with." They tugged at their gold-braided jackets and signalled the honor guard. Grayson was piped aboard, received another decoration and another speech. This time he made a speech in return. * * * * * President Folsom XXV, not knowing what else to do, had summoned his cabinet. "Well?" he rasped at the Secretary of Defense. Steiner said with a faint shrug: "Mr. President, there is nothing to be done. He has the fleet, he has the broadcasting facilities, he has the people." "People!" snarled the President. His finger stabbed at a button and the wall panels snapped down to show the Secret Servicemen standing in their niches. The finger shot tremulously out at Steiner. "Kill that traitor!" he raved. The chief of the detail said uneasily: "Mr. President, we were listening to Grayson before we came on duty. He says he's de facto President now--" "Kill him! Kill him!" The chief went doggedly on: "--and we liked what he had to say about the Republic and he said citizens of the Republic shouldn't take orders from you and he'd relieve you--" The President fell back. Grayson walked in, wearing his plain ensign's uniform and smiling faintly. Admirals and four-stripers flanked him. The chief of the detail said: "Mr. Grayson! Are you taking over?"