Tookey Ween was in one of the red leather library chairs and Audibon stood before the illuminated nebula when the three men entered the office. Before the door was closed, a five-way battle was joined, and the melee continued for fifteen minutes. The only way to describe that brawl is to name the records from the network sound library that a soundman would have to use to duplicate it. Spinning two turntables, he would blend 261B--APPLAUSE: 5th CUT; BOOS AND SLIGHT HISSES, with 259A--RIOT CROWD EFFECTS: FRENCH CROWD, LARGE GROUP OF MEN, INCITED TO RIOT BY FRENCH COMMANDS. He might also hammer on the studio walls to get the desk-pounding effect. Through all the fury, Audibon remained adamant. The network was not renewing the time. After a quarter of an hour had elapsed, he looked at his watch and took control of the situation. "We're discussing a half hour show," he said sharply. "I can't allocate more than the show's time to the discussion time. I have another appointment coming up. Now ... if you've been listening to me with your inner ear, you know the network's position. The nine to nine-thirty Sunday night slot is rated at ten points better than 'Who He?' is doing." "Roy...." Borden began. Audibon held up his hand. "We're not an entertainment business. We're an institution. We have prestige to maintain. We have our honor to polish. One of my responsibilities is to see to it that every one of our shows reaches and maintains its ultimate rating. Entertainment isn't our goal...." Audibon reached up and rapped the nebula with his knuckles. "_This_ is our goal." "Damn it, Roy," Borden exploded. "Level with me. You and I know what's behind this decision. It's the old network-agency feud. You people can't forget that you sold out your radio time to the agencies and lost control of your own business. You're so damned scared of that happening with television that you're cancelling our show ... not because the rating isn't high enough, but because the network doesn't own the package. You want nothing but network packages filling network time." Audibon smiled. "It's a seller's market today," Borden shouted. "You've got a dozen clients begging for every slot across the board. You can play snotty and get away with it. But the market'll turn. If costs don't kick you out of the saddle, then boredom will. And when that happens you'll come begging to us. You'll come begging and we'll spit in your eye." "Incidentally," Audibon murmured. "I'm having this discussion recorded ... for legal purposes." He pointed to a small microphone on the upper shelves of the breakfront.