Le Duc Taep stood looking out a tower window at the customers standing in line outside the park. It was quarter to eight in the morning, and some people had been standing in line since before sunup. A few had even camped out overnight so as to be among the first to enter. They would have camped out longer, except the Legion security guards had made it clear they wouldn't allow them to.

            He looked back at Phule and said, "My compliments, Captain. There have been times I despaired of this park ever opening. Now, we have come to the crowning moment-and look: The people have turned out for us in overwhelming numbers. The triumph of our cause is imminent."

            "Don't get too enthusiastic," said Phule. "We'd have gotten a big crowd for opening day no matter what, with the half-price tickets. Our publicity campaign can't have hurt the crowds-we've beaten the government's pants off in that department. The real test will be how many people we have in line after the novelty wears off." Despite his cautious words, Phule smiled. It was hard not to smile, looking at the lines snaking through the turnstiles, and stretching as far back as the eye could see.

            "I wonder how the lines are for Landoor Park," said Rembrandt.

            "They've got huge lines, too," said Phule. "We think we've done a little better, but it's anybody's guess until we have real numbers. And the day's barely begun."

            "We're still working to build attendance," said Rembrandt. "Our people will be handing out flyers at their exits, offering anyone with a ticket stub from their opening day a half-price ticket for our park, valid for one full year."

            "That's a brilliant idea," said Taep. "Once the park has shown them the superiority of our principles, not many will endorse the government's sleazy operation."

            "I'd hope they keep coming to both parks," said Phule. He put his hand on Taep's shoulder. "It's important for your park to succeed, but it's even more important for all your world's people to do well. And that's going to depend on drawing off-planet visitors. Your people will support the parks, but they can't revive the economy all by themselves. It would be like two men passing a dollar back and forth every few seconds and claiming they were each taking in ten dollars a minute."

            "We're not reduced to that," said Okidata, chuckling at the image. "We'll see how well the off-planet attendance holds up in the long run, but we've got a great start."

            "Well, if Jenny's opening day report gets broadcast widely enough, that'll be a big plus," said Phule, pointing to the reporter and her cameraman, working the crowds. There were other reporters there, too-the press had sensed a good human-interest story. "The only thing better than publicity is free publicity," he said. "I think I'll go down and mingle with the crowd some-I haven't even tried any rides yet."

            "That's the spirit," said Le Duc Taep. "We'll make a proper New Atlantean of you yet!"

            "I'll come with you," said Rembrandt. "I've got to check on our attendance monitors."

            The stairs led down to the park's main street, where groups of tourists were surging forward toward the newly opened rides. Others were more leisurely looking into the souvenir shops along the way.

            Rembrandt stopped outside the door and said, "All right, Captain, I can tell something's eating you. What is it?"

            Phule turned to her and said, "The IRS has decided I owe them some enormous amount in back taxes. I mean to fight it, of course, but that'll take time away from running the company. You may be in charge a lot more-assuming I'm not replaced entirely."

            "Replaced?" Rembrandt stopped in her tracks. "That's going to happen over our dead bodies, Captain!"

            Phule responded with a thin smile. "I appreciate the support, Remmie, but General Blitzkrieg is trying to get rid of me. Knowing him, he'd probably enjoy wiping out the entire company in the process-he considers its very existence a blot on his record."

            "And making it a success is probably a deadly insult," said Rembrandt. The two of them began walking, sharing the street with the ebullient crowds. "The brass hats couldn't make this company effective, but you came in and did it in a couple of years-mainly by scrapping their system. And in the process, showing them up as incompetents who couldn't recognize good legionnaires if they fell over them."

            "Don't say that where the general can hear you," said Phule, smiling. "Actually, as much as I appreciate the compliment, you know as well as I do that everybody in the company deserves the credit. It's a shame it's all going down the drain, now that we've finally accomplished something worthwhile."

            "Sir, I'm going to do my best to make sure it doesn't go down the drain," said Rembrandt. She stopped at the corner of a little cross-street leading off to more shops and attractions. "Why don't you enjoy the fruit of your labors? If this park doesn't cheer you up, we've done something very wrong. I'd stay with you, but I've got work to do."

            "Thanks, Lieutenant," said Phule. "I suggest you take your own advice and enjoy the park, too."

            But Rembrandt was already striding purposefully away.