Ballroom of the Skies by John D. MacDonald

new and more destructive pleasures of the flesh. Those are top order. Except for this Branson thing, Shard seems to depend on those old trustworthy ‘border incidents.’ They’re effective, but only in a limited way. Stability, unity, must come from within. That’s why I’ve assigned so many of our people to the routine job of agricultural research—helping the actual researchers see old things in a new way. But I have a hedge against defeat, too.”
    “That’s a nice trick if you can manage it.”
    “Back to the oldest continent, Martin. Back to the newest power rising in the heart of Africa in another forty, fifty years. We’re stirring them up there. Making them think. Making them come alive. Like all the years of labor in India.”
    Martin frowned. “What would happen, Miguel, if … one side or the other achieved a victory so sweeping that … there was no turning back.”
    “You mean if the pot boiled over? It won’t. It can’t.”
    The soda hissed into the glass as Miguel made a drink for Dake Lorin. He handed the tall man the glass.
    “Drink a toast to yourself, Dake. You get it on the front page of the
Times-News.
Bylined. Wire services all over the world.”
    Dake stared at him. “They wouldn’t touch it when I took it to them.”
    “You couldn’t tell them those Disservice people wouldn’t raise a stink. I can. Old friends I got down there. Here’s your money back. Didn’t need it.”
    “What’s your object in helping me, Mr. Larner.”
    Miguel shrugged his thick shoulders. “The way I work. I do you a favor. You do me a favor. That makes the world go around. Got any plans?”
    “Not yet. I thought I’d see if I can’t get back into the same sort of thing I was doing working for Darwin Branson. I want to see if I can get an appointment with Enfield.”
    “Want me to fix that?”
    Dake smiled. “I guess you could, all right. I guess there isn’t much you can’t do. But I think I better try this on my own.”
    “He isn’t going to be too happy when that paper hits the streets. And that ought to be in … about two hours.”
    “Think the article will do any good, Mr. Larner?”
    “That kind of thing is over my head, Dake. I see it this way. Nothing will keep that dope from filtering into Brazil, North China, Irania. Of course nobody will try to keep it out of Pak-India. So the world gets to know that all the big boys were right on the verge of making a deal, and didn’t quite do it. Enough people yelling and maybe it will go through anyway. Public opinion might scare the big shots. Then we’d have that free exchange of information, reopening of frontiers to air travel, cooperative use of the canals, a few disputed boundary lines redrawn to satisfy both parties. As I see it, it could work. Lloyds of Calcutta is giving seven to three on war within the next year. Maybe your article will change hell out of those odds.”
    “I don’t think any part of it is over your head.”
    “I stick to my own line. Prono, and supplying the fleng joints, and the tridi franchises. Hell, so long as I can keep making a fast rupee, I should sweat up the world? Ishould live so long? Nice having you around, Dake. Let me know how you make out.”
    “You sound like a friend of mine. She has the same approximate philosophy. She calls me a do-gooder. Patrice Togelson.”
    “I know about her. She and me, we’d make a good team. Bring her around some time.”
    “She thinks she’s a team all by herself. I’ve got to take this money back to her. She loaned it to me. To make a damn fool of myself with.”
    “Good luck, boy. Don’t take any wooden rupees.”
    Dake went up and picked up his suitcase, went the rest of the way up to the lobby. He nodded at Johnny, the desk clerk, told him he was leaving for good. As he turned toward the door he heard his name called.
    He turned. Karen was running toward him from the elevators. Her eyes were wide with alarm. “You’re not going?”
    “Yes, I am. And