"how do you feel?" asked charlie as he watched tanker bell sit up, his face twitching.

"like a damn screwball!" said the tanker.

"did you get the message?"

"yeah. hammerhead never fought like the way he fought me in his life! wha'd they do to him?"

"fixed him," said charlie jingle soberly.

"the contender too?"

"well you saw the tapes. they're all stuck away in that memory bank of yours. whatta you think?"

tanker nodded, his head jerking up and down uncontrollably.

"fixed him too. but i don't get the picture yet. do you, charlie?"

"sure, i get it. the night i called the arena to match you against the contender because kid congo got squashed in that accident, they had a fix workin' between them. kid congo was supposed to upset the contender, see? but they must've both been fixed a little to fool the judges. so there's this accident, see? this throws the whole plan into a panic—congo's out, it's too late to un-fix the contender. if the auditorium puts in a fighter who's strictly legitimate, everybody will know it was a fixed. i call. they figured i had a tank, maybe you'd look pretty bad in there, and nobody would know the difference. okay, what happens? you nail the contender, because, after all, you ain't that bad—does it figure?"

"boy! does it!" said the tanker, his head jerking. "why can't you go to the authorities, charlie?"

"because this fix is piled a mile high, tanker, in all directions."

"whadda you mean?"

"i mean i can't go to the commission."

"what we gonna do? just get belted around?"

"we got no choice," said charlie jingle with a shrug.

"the hell we ain't! if you think i'm gonna go into a ring and get mauled, you're off your rocker!"

"we can't call the bout off," said charlie jingle dejectedly.

"well who said anything about callin' it off?" shouted tanker.

"i did the best i could! i tuned you up. i timed you. i jazzed you up good—"

"but you still don't think we can beat that iron-man pugg!"

"that's right."

"so whattam i supposed to do when i go inter the ring tonight? throw down my hands and give it up?"

"you do what i did. do your best."

"alla while knowin' i don't stand a chance?"

"if i did it, you can do it."

"you know what you don't have, charlie? you don't have faith!"

charlie jingle snorted in disgust.

"who hatched you? some preacher?"

"no, no, that's the truth, and you know it!"

"the truth," roared charlie jingle in a white rage, "the truth is that everything's a lie! the truth is that everything's fixed from the word go, from the bottom up and the top down. that's the goddam truth for you!"

tanker shook his head stubbornly.

"boy, you sure are singin' a different song, all of a sudden. i dunno what the hell happened to you, but you don't even sound like yourself!"

"okay! okay! wait and see when they klobber you with it tonight, tank, my boy! wait and see when it hits you square between the eyes."

the tanker leaped up from the bench, jerking his fists in the air uncontrollably.

"i'll murder him!"

"no you won't. listen, i been fighting against fixes and fixers all my life, tanker. i never believed, and i never wanted to believe, that they had it sewed away, that the big operators had us tucked away into their pockets. now i'm convinced! they sold me their dirty bill of goods. i'm sewed in with the rest of them."

the tanker shook his fist under charlie jingle's face. oil had drained from his system up into his face and head, lubricating his head-mechanisms as protection from strain, as his head-parts were being overworked. his "skin" looked blotchy.

"charlie! after this is over, i want quits with you! you hear me? i want quits!"

"suits me fine," said charlie jingle.

"i'll bet—" began tanker bell, "—i'll bet you ain't even gonna bet on me! are you?"

"sure! i'm gonna bet a thousand on you in the open market. then what i'm gonna do is let hannigan bet five thousand for me on the sly on the champ. that way, at least i'll come out with somethin'."

"even belok's better than you! at least he's got guts enough to fix fights. you ain't even got guts enough to fight one!"

charlie jingle walked to the door.

"you better rest up," he said, and swung the door open.

"don't worry about me," said the tanker. "i can take care of myself!"

charlie jingle looked at him a moment, a cloud of inexpressible something in his eyes.

"see you later," he said quietly, and shut the door.