"We are here to decide our future. This is not just an ordinary election. We are here to decide whether we are going to remain as we are, of whether we are going to sink back into the bloody past." As always, he felt the warmth of expressing himself--of re-affirming the principles by which he lived. "We are here to choose between a life of peace and harmony, a life in which no man is oppressed in any way by any other, a life of fellowship, a life of peaceful trade, a life of shared talents and ideals--or a life of rigid organization, of slavery to a high-sounding phrase and a remorseless system of government that fits its subjects to itself rather than pattern itself to meet their greatest good." He spoke to them of freedom--of what life had been like before they were born, of how bitter the struggle had been, and of how Freemen ought to live. They followed every word attentively, and when he finished he sat down to applause. He sat back in his chair. Jem, behind him, whispered: "Joe, that was wonderful! I've never heard it better said. Joe, I ... I've got to admit that before I heard you today, I was scared--plain scared. I didn't think I was ready. It--it seemed like such a big job, all alone.... But now I know you're with me, forever...." * * * * * Messerschmidt got up. It seemed to Kimmensen as though the entire crowd inhaled simultaneously. "Fellow citizens." Messerschmidt delivered the opening flatly, standing easily erect, and then stood waiting. The attention of the crowd fastened on him, and the cameras dipped closer. "First," Messerschmidt said, "I'd like to pay my respects to President Kimmensen. I can truthfully say I've never heard him deliver that speech more fluently." A ripple of laughter ran around the crowd. "Then, I'd like to simply ask a few questions." Messerschmidt had gone on without waiting for the laughter to die out. It stopped as though cut by a knife. "I would have liked to hear Candidate Bendix make his own speech, but I'm afraid he did." Messerschmidt turned slightly toward Bendix's chair. In Kimmensen's judgment, he was not using the best tone of voice for a rabble-rouser. "Yes, Jem Bendix is a nice guy. No one has a bad word for him. Why should they? What's he ever done on any impulse of his own--what's he ever said except 'me, too'?" Kimmensen's jaws clamped together in incredulous rage. He'd expected Messerschmidt to hit low. But this was worse than low. This was a deliberate, muddy-handed perversion of the campaign speech's purpose. "I wonder," Messerschmidt went on, "whether Jem Kimmensen--excuse me; Jem _Bendix_--would be here on this platform today if Josef Kimmensen hadn't realized it was time to put a shield between himself and the citizens he calls his fellows. Let's look at the record." Kimmensen's hands crushed his thighs, and he stared grimly at Messerschmidt's back.