Madison beamed； benign as a god。 He had carefully coached the women。 He had restored everything internally。 It was an odd employment of his craft； using it for peace； but by the simple expedient of advising the girls to PR the regiment； he had changed the mind and behavior of Flick。 It just proved to Madison how much he himself was a master of his trade。 Microcosm or macrocosm； it didn't matter； for bad or for good； it didn't matter。 What mattered was that one could mand； without fail； the destinies of men。 The Supreme Being must feel this way from time to time as he directed the courses of the universe。 The only reason Madison hadn't done it the other way around and gotten Flick killed was that he didn't need him for a headline。
Chapter 3
Shortly after midnight； it was very difficult for Madison to descend from his cloudy heights to assimilate bad news。
The four reporters stood about his bed like lost wool animals； looking like they had been chewed upon by fangers who had taken great satisfaction in it。
Copy dangling limply from his hand； the lead reporter said； 〃They won't take it。〃
〃What？ A good sensational story like that？〃
〃They never heard of 'handouts' before。 We tried every editor we could get past the door to。 They wanted sources and every one said they'd send out their own reporters； but why bother？〃
〃Didn't you try bribes？〃
〃That's what we were doing time for。 We didn't think you'd like it if they put us right back in； what with the iron box and all。〃
Madison waved them out of there with advice to have a drink and go to bed。
He was certain he knew what the trouble was： they were simply inexperienced and deficient in salesmanship。 He wrote an order to the director to practice them in sincere and earnest expressions and went back to bed。
It was obvious he would have to break the first ice himself。
Accordingly； brisk and early in the morning； he dressed himself in his most conservative and expensive suit； practiced expressions a little in the mirror； picked up fresh copies of the well…poisoning story and went to the hangar。
A very exhausted Flick told his smug footwoman to take the controls； for he could hardly see and in addition； now； had trouble in even getting his hand up to point the way。 PR had really worked！
Madison had decided there was no reason to start at the bottom。 As the top of his profession himself； he had better start at the top。
By a slight misrepresentation to underlings； startled by the blanket order from Lord Snor to Homeview； Madison gained audience to the publisher； no less； of the Daily Speaker； the most widely circulated newssheet on Voltar。
In the lofty office which overlooked mercial City with disdain； Noble Arthrite Stuffy kept Madison standing。 〃I understand you have some message from my cousin； Lord Snor。〃
〃Actually；〃 said Madison； 〃I came because I have a sensational news story。 Headline stuff。 Here it is。〃
Noble Stuffy read it and tossed it back； 〃It's written in news format。 Is it supposed to be a story？〃
〃Yes； indeed；〃 said Madison。 〃Print it and you'll increase your circulation。〃
〃We already circulate more than we can easily handle。 Why would anyone want to increase their circulation？〃
〃To get better rates from the advertisers。〃
Noble Stuffy frowned。 〃Advertisers？ We don't print advertising。 I think you have us mixed up with notice…board cards。 Where did you say you were from？ Let me see your identoplate。〃
Madison handed it over； expecting to be able to answer questions about PR man and bowl this publisher over。 Instead； Stuffy snarled； 〃The Apparatus？ You're from the Apparatus？ Well； let me tell you； whatever your name is here； this isn't the first time the Apparatus has tried to get something changed or a story pulled。 I suppose you have a Death Battalion waiting at the door or some such other poppycock。 You have just bee unpopular。〃
Madison didn't like the tone。 He was used to editors and publishers bruising their heads against the floor before the PR of the government。 〃I could get a Royal order that you'd have to publish anything I say！〃
〃Hah；〃 said Stuffy。 〃You just get your Royal order and I will get you a revolution as quick as blink。 Seventy thousand years ago a monarch tried to force papers to report the soirees of his moner mistress and they even erased his name from history。 Royal order！ Oh； this will be rich when I mention it at luncheon at my club to other publishers。〃
〃I could start another paper and give you such petition； I could wipe you out！〃 grated Madison。
〃Hah； hah！〃 said Stuffy。 〃There hasn't been a new newssheet started in fifteen thousand years。 Try it and the other papers will buy up all the available paper and leave you nothing to print on but gutter stones。 Now you better leave before I ask somebody to throw you out。〃
Madison departed。 He went to other papers。 He got the same treatment。 He also found something else that was discouraging： These papers were all chains that re…published； with local sections； on every planet of the Confederacy； and where it had looked like there were tens of thousands of newspapers on the 110 planets； in reality there were only about seventy…five。
Not letting himself look or feel downcast； for after all he was a veteran PR； he told himself he at least had a blanket order for Homeview。
It was getting on toward evening by that time but he phoned them from the airbus。
〃Homeview？〃 he said to the bright face of the receptionist。 〃Please connect me to your news section。〃
〃News section？ We don't have a news section； sir。〃
〃You give out news！〃 said the incredulous Madison。
〃Oh； yes； sir。 I'll connect you to the announcers' rest lounge。〃
The sleek face of an announcer came on： he was sipping hot jolt。 Madison said； 〃Who is your ace news mentator？〃
〃Our what？〃 said the announcer。
〃Don't you have a news staff？〃
〃What would we want with that？〃 said the announcer。 〃Whoever is on at those periods； we just read items from each page of some leading newspaper。 We use a different paper every day and give them credit。 Oh； I see what you must mean： you mean the camera coverage of lordly and notable people。 Do you want me to connect you to our social director？〃
〃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