put you away for treason when you've only talked to the likes of us- but they can at 
least give you eighteen months for declassifying information without the authority to do 
so."
  Salsbury glanced at Dawson.
  Leaning forward in his chair, Dawson patted the general's knee. "Let Ogden finish."
  Klinger said, "This could be a setup."
  "A what?"
  "A setup. A trap."
  "To get you?" Dawson asked.
  "Could be."
  "Why would I want to set you up?" Dawson asked. He seemed genuinely hurt by the 
suggestion.
  In spite of the fact, Salsbury thought, that he has probably set up and destroyed 
hundreds of men over the last thirty years.
  Klinger seemed to be thinking the same thing, although he shrugged and pretended that 
he had no answer to Dawson's question.
  "That's not the way I operate," Dawson said, either unable or unwilling to conceal his 
bruised pride. "You know me better than that. My whole career, my whole life, is based on 
Christian principles."
  "I don't know anyone well enough to risk a charge of treason," the general said gruffly.
  Feigning exasperation-it was a bit too obvious to be real- Dawson said, "Old friend, 
we've made a great deal of money together. But all of it amounts to pocket change when 
compared to the money we can make if we cooperate with Ogden.
  There is literally unlimited wealth here-for all of us." He watched the general for a 
moment, and when he could get no reaction he said, "Ernst, I have never misled you. 
Never. Not once."
  Unconvinced, Klinger said, "All you ever did before was pay me for advice-"
  "For your influence."
  "For my advice," Klinger insisted. "And even if I did sell my influence-which I 
didn't-that's a long way from treason."
  They stared at each other.
  Salsbury felt as if he were not in the room with them, as if he were watching them from 
the eyepiece of a mile-long telescope.
  With less of an edge to his voice than there had been a minute ago, Klinger finally 
said, "Leonard, I suppose you realize that I could be setting you up."
  "Of course."
  "I could agree to hear your man out, listen to everything he has to say-only to get 
evidence against you and him."
  "String us along."
  "Give you enough rope to hang yourselves," Klinger said. "I only warn you because 
you're a friend. I like you. I don't want to see you in trouble."
  Dawson settled back in his chair. "Well, I've an offer to make you, and I need your 
cooperation. So I'll just have to take that risk, won't I?"
  "That's your choice."
  Smiling, apparently pleased with the general, Dawson raised his brandy glass and 
silently proposed a toast.
  Grinning broadly, Klinger raised his own glass.
  What in the hell is going on here? Salsbury wondered.
  When he had sniffed and sipped his brandy, Dawson looked at Salsbury for the first time 
in several minutes and said, "You may proceed, Ogden."
  Suddenly, Salsbury grasped the underlying purpose of the conversation to which he had 
just listened. In the unlikely event that Dawson actually was setting a trap for an old 
friend,
  on the off chance that the meeting was being taped, Klinger had deftly provided himself 
with at least some protection against successful prosecution. He was now on record as 
having warned Dawson about the consequences of his actions. In court or before a military 
review board, the general could argue that he had only been playing along with them in 
order to collect evidence against them; and even if no one believed him, he more than 
likely would manage to retain both his freedom and his rank.
  Ogden got up, leaving his brandy glass behind him, went to the window and stood with 
his back to the darkening lake. He was too nervous to sit still while he talked. Indeed, 
for a few seconds he was too nervous to speak at all.
  Like a pair of lizards perched half in warm sunlight and half in chilly shadows, 
waiting for the light balance to change enough to warrant movement, Dawson and Klinger 
watched him. They were sitting in identical high-backed black leather easy chairs with 
burnished silvery buttons and studs. A small round cocktail table with a dark oak top 
stood between them. The only light in the richly furnished room came from two floor lamps 
that flanked the fireplace, twenty feet away. The right side of each man's face was 
softened and somewhat concealed by shadows, while the left side was starkly detailed by 
amber light; and their eyes blinked with saurian patience.
  Whether or not the scheme was a success, Salsbury thought, both Dawson and Klinger 
would come through it unscathed. They both wore effective armor: Dawson his wealth; 
Klinger his ruthlessness, cleverness, and experience.
  However, Salsbury didn't possess any armor of his own. He hadn't even realized-as 
Klinger had when he protected himself with that spiel about secrecy pledges and 
treason-that he might need it. He had assumed that his discovery would generate enough 
money and power to satisfy all three of them, but he had just begun to understand that 
greed could not be sated as easily as a hearty appetite or a demanding thirst. If he had 
any defensive weapon at all, it was his intelligence, his lightning quick mind; but his 
intellect had been directed for so long into
  narrow channels of specialized scientific inquiry that it now served him far less well 
in the common matters of life than it did in the laboratory.
  Be cautious, suspicious, and watchful, he reminded himself for the second time that 
day. With men as aggressive as these, caution was a damned thin armor, but it was the 
only one he had.
  He said, "For ten years the Brockert Institute has been fully devoted to a Pentagon 
study of subliminal advertising. We haven't been interested in the technical, 
theoretical, or sociological aspects of it; that work is being done elsewhere. We've been 
concerned solely with the biological mechanisms of subliminal perception. From the start 
we have been trying to develop a drug that will 'prime' the brain for subception, a drug 
that will make a man obey without question every subliminal directive that's given to 
him." Scientists at another CDA laboratory in northern California were trying to engineer 
a viral or bacterial agent for the same purpose. But they were on the wrong track. He 
knew that for a fact because he was on the right one. "Currently, it's possible to use 
subliminals to influence people who have no unshakable opinions about a particular 
subject or product. But the Pentagon wants to be able to use subliminal messages to alter 
the fundamental attitudes of people who do have very strong, stubbornly held opinions."
  "Mind control," Klinger said matter-of-factly.
  Dawson took another sip from his brandy glass.
  "If such a drug can be synthesized," Salsbury said, "it will change the course of