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〃
〃No！〃 snarled Madison and hung up。
He sat while Flick hovered above the lanes。 Confound it； Madison told himself； I can't run a PR campaign on billboards！ And e to think of it； the only signs I have seen just told what store it was。
〃Take me home！〃 he snapped at Flick。
Once there； he soaked his feet； It was the first door…pounding he had done in a decade。 It was making him cross。
Then； fortified by supper and easy in bare feet and a robe； he went into the reporters' workroom and began to go through the stacks of newssheets that had been purchased。 He had an idea that what he was up against was that curse of the PR profession； journalistic truth。 Long； long ago； on Earth； they used to talk about it to graduates in journalism。 But these days； they even awarded Pulitzer Prizes for the most false story of the year。 The Voltarians； with all this nonsense about sources and accuracy； were definitely on the wrong road： even the corniest weekly in Podunk could give them lessons。
He was reading lead stories now。
NEW MONUMENT
DEDICATED
And another：
LADY PROMPTON
ORPHANAGE
SPEECH IN FULL
Those were headlines？ How ghastly！
Pages two to seven were usually social news。
WIFE OF LORD ELD GIVES
PINK SPARKLEWATER
PARTY
And
DAME ALT GIVES
GARDEN SOCIAL
AT ALT ESTATE
And
EDITOR'S WIFE
ANNOUNCES
WEEKLY AT HOME
Madison exploded。 HOW DULL！ These people had never grasped the idea that news is entertainment！
There was a little hope： several papers； on inside pages； bottom； carried news on the revolt in Calabar； and on the back page of one paper； five lines said that a couple of lovers had been found suicided in a river。 Lacking anything else； those stories had the blood to make them headlines！
WHAT A BACKWARD CIVILIZATION！
He had better reform them fast！
Although his determination was strong； he knew he needed more than that。 He needed some point of entrance to penetrate this media wall。
He went to bed and stared at the ceiling。 No ideas。 Eventually； he slept。
Factually； dear reader； not just Heller's fate but that of both Voltar and Earth were hovering in the balance in that dark chamber。
Chapter 4
At dawn； the searching fingers of the sun pried gently at his eyelids。
He lay in the semi…world； half…awake； half…asleep。 A thought was drifting through his semiconsciousness。
One of the proper purposes of newspapers； ran the thought； was to cause trouble and worry people。 Thus； it followed； a primary intention of all Earth media is to make people go mad。
He stirred。 Something was tugging at his mind for recognition。 He suddenly realized that he had never seen any psychiatrist on Voltar or any sign of one。 Not even a psychologist。
Aha！ The Confederacy； through its deficient media； was not only not causing insanity； it was not even curing it！ Suddenly an idea hit him。
He struggled out of bed。 He got on a robe。 He went into Flick's room。
Flick； black eyes now yellowing； was lying spent between the naked bodies of Cun and Twa； both of whom were snoring peacefully through gently smiling lips。
〃Flick；〃 said Madison； 〃what do they do with the insane on Voltar？〃
〃They sic two women on them and kill them；〃 said Flick； trying to free his arms and sit up。
〃No； seriously；〃 said Madison。 〃It's important that I know。〃
Flick crawled weakly down to the foot of the bed and sat； too spent to progress further。 He said； 〃The insane？ Let's see。 Well； when they say somebody is insane； it's not very hard to figure out they're right。 They get staring eyes and rush about or flop。 They don't know anybody and； when they talk； they say crazy things。 So they send them to a big prison far up north and that's that。〃
〃What happens if they get well？〃
〃Get well？ That's a funny term。 You mean if they go sane again？ Well； if that happens； they watch them for a while and then they let them out。〃
〃You mean they don't shock them or operate on their brains？〃
〃For pity's sakes； why？ How e somebody should punish them？ They don't work on them or touch them at all。 I had a cousin once was sent to the Insane Detention Camp on Calabar： he went crazy as a gyro with half a wheel gone。 They kept him for half a year； didn't do a thing but feed him； and then they let him back out。 He was all sane again。 I'm sure glad they didn't damage him： my aunt would have raised a thousand Devils if they had。〃
〃Have you ever heard of a mental doctor？〃
〃Nope。 Don't think I ever saw a doctor that went crazy。〃
〃I mean a psychiatrist？〃 said Madison。
〃Look； Chief； I been sitting here awfully patient and every muscle aches； but couldn't we lay off foreign words at least until I have had some breakfast and wake up？〃
All this talk had stirred the girls。 Twa said； 〃You don't need any breakfast yet；〃 and reached for him。
Madison left。 He felt blocked again。
He went back to his room and paced。
The idea he had had was not really his。 It was a historic milestone of the PR trade。 It had e to him when he realized the primary purpose of Earth media was to make people go mad。 And this had jarred into view one of the PR triumphs of the century。
The American Psychiatric Affiliates； many decades ago； had had a terrible problem with the media。 At that time； nobody in his right mind would print anything serious about psychiatrists； the breed was regarded as just a bunch of vicious fakes and quacks； destructive at the very least with their electric shocks and murders。
But PR had saved the day。 In league with the World Federation of Mental Stealth…an organization posed of ex…Nazis who had murdered the millions of Jews as well as all the 〃insane〃 in Germany； and who were running from the Allied forces…the American Psychiatric Affiliates had pulled the most cunning coup of the age。
They had done such a marvelous job on the media that now； today； a psychiatrist could mit murder several times a day； including Sunday； and could do anything； even exhibit himself in front of children； and the media and every page and frame of it would praise him to the skies and say how scientific and necessary it all was。
Yes； their PR procedure had indeed worked and continued to work。 Resoundingly； psychiatry and psychology were now considered totally above all law and even the highest in the land licked their scruffy； bloodstained boots。
Madison； with his mand of PR history； knew exactly what they had done； how they had gone about it and continued to go about it down to the finest； minute detail。
But there was one small flaw in his plan： he didn't have a psychiatrist。
Chapter 5
Madison； grim determination in his eye； got dressed and had some breakfast and then got on the viewer…phone。 He was trying to locate Lombar： he was not at Palace City； he was not at his office in town。 He seemed to have vanished。
From what he knew now of Apparatus offices； he hazarded that Lombar must have a chief clerk。 By using his blanket order from Hisst that gave him。 a free hand in all matters of PR； he finally got through several shunts and wound up looking at an old man of very bitter visage。
〃I need information；〃 said Madison。
〃Well； I'm not giving any over a viewer…phone； no matter what authority you've got。 Tell your driver to land you at Camp Endurance。〃 He clicked off。
Flick； up and