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Author: Dallas McCord Reynolds
Release Date: October 26, 2009 [Ebook #30339]
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***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STATUS QUO***
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<div class="tei tei-div" style="margin-bottom: 5.00em; margin-top: 5.00em">
</div>
<hr class="page" /><div class="tei tei-div" style="margin-bottom: 5.00em; margin-top: 5.00em">
<p class="tei tei-p" style="text-align: center; margin-bottom: 1.73em"><span style="font-size: 173%">Status Quo</span></p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="text-align: center; margin-bottom: 1.73em"><span style="font-size: 173%">by Dallas McCord Reynolds</span></p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="text-align: center; margin-bottom: 1.20em"><span style="font-size: 120%">Illustrated by John Schoenherr</span></p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="text-align: center; margin-bottom: 1.00em">Analog Science Fact & Fiction</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="text-align: center; margin-bottom: 1.00em">August 1961</p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="tei tei-body" style="margin-bottom: 6.00em; margin-top: 6.00em">
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page004">[pg 004]</span><a name="Pg004" id="Pg004" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<div class="tei tei-div" style="margin-bottom: 5.00em; margin-top: 5.00em">
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
[Transcriber's Note: This text was produced from Analog Science Fact &
Fiction August 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
copyright on this publication was renewed.]
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
In his income bracket
and in the suburb in
which he lived, government
employees in the
twenty-five to thirty-five
age group were currently wearing
tweeds. Tweeds were in. Not to wear
tweeds was Non-U.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Lawrence Woolford wore tweeds.
His suit, this morning, had first seen
the light of day on a hand loom in
Donegal. It had been cut by a Swede
widely patronized by serious young
career men in Lawrence Woolford's
status group; English tailors were out
currently and Italians unheard of.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Woolford sauntered down the walk
before his auto-bungalow, scowling at
the sportscar at the curb—wrong year,
wrong make. He'd have to trade
it in on a new model. Which was a
shame in a way, he liked the car.
However, he had no desire to get a
reputation as a weird among colleagues
and friends. What was it
Senator Carey MacArthur had said
the other day? Show me a weird and
I'll show you a person who has taken
the first step toward being a Commie.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Woolford slid under the wheel,
dropped the lift lever, depressed gently
the thrust pedal and took off for
downtown Greater Washington. Theoretically,
he had another four days of
vacation coming to him. He wondered
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page006">[pg 006]</span><a name="Pg006" id="Pg006" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
what the Boss wanted. That
was the trouble in being one of the
Boss' favorite trouble shooters, when
trouble arose you wound up in the
middle of it. Lawrence Woolford was
to the point where he was thinking in
terms of graduating out of field work
and taking on a desk job which
meant promotion in status and pay.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He turned over his car to a parker
at the departmental parking lot and
made his way through the entrance
utilized by second-grade departmental
officials. In another year, he told
himself, he'd be using that other
door.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss' reception secretary
looked up when Lawrence Woolford
entered the anteroom where she presided.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Hello, Larry,”</span> she said. <span class="tei tei-q">“Hear
they called your vacation short. Darn
shame.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
LaVerne Polk was a cute little
whizz of efficiency. Like Napoleon
and his army, she knew the name of
every member of the department and
was on a first-name basis with all.
However, she was definitely a weird.
For instance, styles might come and
styles might go, but LaVerne dressed
for comfort, did her hair the way she
thought it looked best, and wore low-heeled
walking shoes on the job. In
fact, she was ready and willing to
snarl at anyone, no matter how kindly
intentioned, who even hinted that
her nonconformity didn't help her
promotion prospects.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Woolford said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Hi, LaVerne. I
think the Boss is expecting me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“That he is. Go right in, Larry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She looked after him when he
turned and left her desk. Lawrence
Woolford cut a pleasant figure as thirty
year old bachelors go.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss looked up from some report
on his desk which he'd been
frowning at, nodded to his field man
and said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Sit down, Lawrence. I'll be
with you in a minute. Please take a
look at this while you're waiting.”</span> He
handed over a banknote.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford took it and found
himself a comfortable chair. He examined
the bill, front and back. It
was a fifty dollar note, almost new.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Finally the Boss, a stocky but impeccable
career bureaucrat of the ultra-latest
school, scribbled his initials
on the report and tossed it into an
Out chute. He said to Woolford, <span class="tei tei-q">“I
am sorry to cut short your vacation,
Lawrence. I considered giving Walter
Foster the assignment, but I think
you're the better choice.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry decided the faint praise routine
was the best tactic, said earnestly
about his closest rival. <span class="tei tei-q">“Walt's a good
man, sir.”</span> And then, <span class="tei tei-q">“What's the
crisis?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“What do you think of that fifty?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
His trouble shooter looked down at
it. <span class="tei tei-q">“What is there to think about it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss grunted, slid open a desk
drawer and brought forth another bill.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Here, look at this, please.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
It was another fifty. Larry Woolford
frowned at it, not getting whatever
was going on.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Observe the serial numbers,”</span> the
Boss said impatiently.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
They were identical.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Woolford looked up. <span class="tei tei-q">“Counterfeit.
Which one is the bad one?”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page007">[pg 007]</span><a name="Pg007" id="Pg007" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“That is exactly what we would like
to know,”</span> the Boss said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford stared at his superior,
blinked and then examined the
bills again. <span class="tei tei-q">“A beautiful job,”</span> he said,
<span class="tei tei-q">“but what's it got to do with us, sir?
This is Secret Service jurisdiction,
counterfeiting.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“They called us in on it. They
think it might have international
ramifications.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Now they were getting somewhere.
Larry Woolford put the two
bills on the Boss' desk and leaned
back in his chair, waiting.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
His superior said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Remember the
Nazis turning out American and
British banknotes during the Second
War?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I was just a kid.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I thought you might have read
about it. At any rate, obviously a government—with
all its resources—could
counterfeit perfectly any currency in
the world. It would have the skills,
the equipment, the funds to accomplish
the task. The Germans turned
out hundreds of millions of dollars
and pounds with the idea of confounding
the Allied financial basics.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“And why didn't it work?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“The difficulty of getting it into
circulation, for one thing. However,
they did actually use a quantity. For a
time our people were so alarmed that
they wouldn't allow any bills to come
into this country from Mexico except
two-dollar denomination—the one
denomination the Germans hadn't
bothered to duplicate. Oh, they had
the Secret Service in a dither for a
time.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Woolford was frowning. <span class="tei tei-q">“What's
this got to do with our current situation?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss said, <span class="tei tei-q">“It is only a conjecture.
One of those bills is counterfeit
but such an excellent reproduction
that the skill involved is beyond the
resources of any known counterfeiter.
Secret Service wants to know if it
might be coming from abroad,
and, if so, from where. If it's a governmental
project, particularly a Soviet
Complex one, then it comes into
the ken of our particular cloak-and-dagger
department.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Yes, sir.”</span> Woolford said. He got
up and examined the two bills again.
<span class="tei tei-q">“How'd they ever detect that one was
bad?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Pure fortune. A bank clerk with
an all but eidetic memory was going
through a batch of fifties. It's not too
commonly used a denomination, you
know. Coincidence was involved
since in that same sheaf the serial
number was duplicated.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“And then?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“The reproduction was so perfect
that Secret Service was in an immediate
uproar. Short of the Nazi effort,
there has never been anything like it.
A perfect duplication of engraving
and paper identically the same. The
counterfeiters have even evidently
gone to the extent of putting a certain
amount of artificial wear on the
bills before putting them into circulation.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford said, <span class="tei tei-q">“This is out
of my line. How were they able to
check further, and how many more
did they turn up?”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page008">[pg 008]</span><a name="Pg008" id="Pg008" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“The new I.B.M. sorters help. Secret
Service checked every fifty dollar
bill in every institution in town
both banking and governmental.
Thus far, they have located ten bills
in all.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“And other cities?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“None. They've all been passed in
Greater Washington, which is suspicious
in itself. The amount of expense
that has gone into the manufacture
of these bills does not allow
for only a handful of them being
passed. They should be turning up in
number. Lawrence, this reproduction
is such that a pusher could walk into
a bank and have his false currency
changed by any clerk.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Wow,”</span> Larry whistled.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Indeed.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“So you want me to work with Secret
Service on this on the off chance
that the Soviet Complex is doing us
deliberate dirt.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“That is exactly the idea, Lawrence.
Get to work, please, and keep in
touch with me. If you need support,
I can assign Walter Foster or some of
the other operatives to assist you.
This might have endless ramifications.”</span>
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Back in the anteroom, Woolford
said to the Boss' receptionist, <span class="tei tei-q">“I'm on
a local job, LaVerne, how about assigning
me a girl?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Can do,”</span> she said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“And, look, tell her to get hold of
every available work on counterfeiting
and pile it on my desk.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Right. Thinking of going into
business, Larry?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He grinned down at her. <span class="tei tei-q">“That's
the idea. Keeping up with the Jones
clan in this man's town costs roughly
twice my income.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
LaVerne said disapprovingly,
<span class="tei tei-q">“Then why not give it up? With the
classification you've got a single man
ought to be able to save half
his pay.”</span> She added, more quietly, <span class="tei tei-q">“Or
get married and support a family.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Save half my pay?”</span> Larry snorted.
<span class="tei tei-q">“And get a far out reputation, eh?
No thanks, you can't afford to be a
weird these days.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She flushed—and damn prettily,
Larry Woolford decided. She could be
an attractive item if it wasn't for obviously
getting her kicks out of being
individualistic.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said suddenly, <span class="tei tei-q">“Look, promise
like a good girl not to make us
conspicuous and I'll take you to the
Swank Room for dinner tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Is that where all the bright young
men currently have to be seen
once or twice a week?”</span> she snapped
back at him. <span class="tei tei-q">“Get lost, Larry. Being a
healthy, normal woman I'm interested
in men, but not necessarily in
walking status-symbols.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
It was his turn to flush, and, he decided
wryly, he probably didn't do it
as prettily as she did.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
On his way to his office, he wondered
why the Boss kept her on.
Classically, a secretary-receptionist
should have every pore in place, but
in her time LaVerne Polk must have
caused more than one bureaucratic
eyebrow to raise. Efficiency was probably
the answer; the Boss couldn't
afford to let her go.
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page009">[pg 009]</span><a name="Pg009" id="Pg009" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford's office wasn't
much more than a cubicle. He sat
down at the desk and banged a drawer
or two open and closed. He liked
the work, liked the department, but
theoretically he still had several days
of vacation and hated to get back into
routine.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Had he known it, this was hardly
going to be routine.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He flicked the phone finally and
asked for an outline. He dialed three
numbers before getting his subject.
The phone screen remained blank.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Hans?”</span> he said. <span class="tei tei-q">“Lawrence Woolford.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Teutonic accent was heavy,
the voice bluff. <span class="tei tei-q">“Ah, Larry! you need
some assistance to make your vacation?
Perhaps a sinister, exotic young
lady, complete with long cigarette
holder?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford growled, <span class="tei tei-q">“How'd
you know I was on vacation?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The other laughed. <span class="tei tei-q">“You know
better than to ask that, my friend.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“The vacation is over,
Hans. I need some information.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The voice was more guarded now.
<span class="tei tei-q">“I owe you a favor or two.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Don't you though? Look, Hans,
what's new in the Russkie camp?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The heartiness was gone. <span class="tei tei-q">“How do
you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Is there anything big stirring? Is
there anyone new in this country
from the Soviet Complex?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Well now—”</span> the other's voice
drifted away.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford said impatiently,
<span class="tei tei-q">“Look, Hans, let's don't waste time
fencing. You run a clearing agency
for, <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">ah</span></em>, information. You're strictly a
businessman, nonpartisan, so to speak.
Fine, thus far our department has
tolerated you. Perhaps we'll continue
to. Perhaps the reason is that we
figure we get more out of your existence
than we lose. The Russkies
evidently figure the same way, the proof
being that you're alive and
have branches in the capitals of every
power on Earth.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“All right, all right,”</span> the German
said. <span class="tei tei-q">“Let me think a moment. Can
you give me an idea of what you're
looking for?”</span> There was an undernote
of interest in the voice now.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“No. I just want to know if you've
heard anything new anti-my-side,
from the other side. Or if you know
of any fresh personnel recently from
there.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Frankly, I haven't. If you could
give me a hint.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I can't,”</span> Larry said. <span class="tei tei-q">“Look, Hans,
like you say, you owe me a favor or
two. If something comes up, let me
know. Then I'll owe you one.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The voice was jovial again. <span class="tei tei-q">“It's a
bargain, my friend.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
After Woolford had hung up, he
scowled at the phone. He wondered
if Hans Distelmayer was lying. The
German commanded the largest professional
spy ring in the world. It was
possible, but difficult, for anything in
espionage to develop without his having
an inkling.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The phone rang back. It was Steve
Hackett of Secret Service on the
screen.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Hackett said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Woolford, you coming
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page010">[pg 010]</span><a name="Pg010" id="Pg010" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
over? I understand you've been
assigned to get in our hair on this
job.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Huh,”</span> Larry grunted. <span class="tei tei-q">“The way I
hear it, your whole department has
given up, so I'm assigned to help you
out of your usual fumble-fingered
confusion.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Hackett snorted. <span class="tei tei-q">“At any rate, can
you drop over? I'm to work in liaison
with you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Coming,”</span> Larry said. He hung up,
got to his feet and headed for the
door. If they could crack this thing
the first day, he'd take up that vacation
where it'd been interrupted and
possibly be able to wangle a few
more days out of the Boss to boot.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
At this time of day, parking would
have been a problem, in spite of automation
of the streets. He left his
car in the departmental lot and took a
cab.
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Counterfeit Division of the
Secret Service occupied an impressive
section of an impressive governmental
building. Larry Woolford
flashed his credentials here and there,
explained to guards and receptionists
here and there, and finally wound up
in Steve Hackett's office which was
all but a duplicate of his own in size
and decor.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve Hackett himself was a fairly
accurate carbon copy of Woolford,
barring facial resemblance alone. The
fact was, Steve was almost Lincolnesque
in his ugliness. Career man,
about thirty, good university, crew
cut, six foot, one hundred and seventy,
earnest of eye. He wore Harris tweed.
Larry Woolford made a note of that;
possibly herringbone was coming
back in. He winced at the thought of
a major change in his wardrobe; it'd
cost a fortune.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
They'd worked on a few cases together
before when Steve Hackett
had been assigned to the presidential
bodyguard and co-operated well.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve came to his feet and shook
hands. <span class="tei tei-q">“Thought that you were going
to be down in Florida bass fishing this
month. You like your work so well
you can't stay away, or is it a matter
of trying to impress your chief?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry growled, <span class="tei tei-q">“Fine thing. Secret
Service bogs down and they've got to
call me in to clean up the mess.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve motioned him to a chair and
immediately went serious. <span class="tei tei-q">“Do you
know anything about pushing queer,
Woolford?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“That means passing counterfeit
money, doesn't it? All I know is what's
in the TriD crime shows.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I can see you're going to be a lot
of help. Have you got anywhere at all
on the possibility that the stuff might
be coming from abroad?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Nothing positive,”</span> Larry said. <span class="tei tei-q">“Are
you people accomplishing anything?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“We're just getting underway.
There's something off-trail about this
deal, Woolford. It doesn't fit into
routine.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford said, <span class="tei tei-q">“I wouldn't
think so if the stuff is so good not
even a bank clerk can tell the difference.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“That's not what I'm talking about
now. Let me give you a run down on
standard counterfeiting.”</span> The Secret
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page011">[pg 011]</span><a name="Pg011" id="Pg011" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
Service agent pushed back in his
swivel chair, lit a cigarette, and
propped his feet onto the edge of a
partly open desk drawer. <span class="tei tei-q">“Briefly, it
goes like this. Some smart lad gets
himself a set of plates and a platen
press and—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry interrupted, <span class="tei tei-q">“Where does he
get the plates?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“That doesn't matter now,”</span> Steve
said. <span class="tei tei-q">“Various ways. Maybe he makes
them himself, sometimes he buys them
from a crooked engraver. But
I'm talking about pushing green
goods once it's printed. Anyway, our
friend runs off, say, a million dollars
worth of fives. But he doesn't try to
pass them himself. He wholesales
them around netting, say, fifty thousand
dollars. In other words, he sells
twenty dollars in counterfeit for
one good dollar.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry pursed his lips. <span class="tei tei-q">“Quite a discount.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Um-m-m. But that's safest from
his angle. The half dozen or so distributors
he sold it to don't try to pass
it either. They also are playing it
carefully. They peddle it, at say ten
to one, to the next rung down the
ladder.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“And these are the fellows that
pass it, eh?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Not even then, usually. These
small timers take it and pass it on at
five to one to the suckers in the trade,
who take the biggest risks. Most of
these are professional pushers of the
queer, as the term goes. Some, however,
are comparative amateurs. Sailors
for instance, who buy with the
idea of passing it in some foreign
port where seamen's money flows
fast.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford shifted in his
chair. <span class="tei tei-q">“So what are you building up
to?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve Hackett rubbed the end of
his pug nose with a forefinger in
quick irritation. <span class="tei tei-q">“Like I say, that's
standard counterfeit procedure. We're
all set up to meet it, and do a pretty
good job. Where we have our difficulties
is with amateurs.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Woolford scowled at him.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Hackett said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Some guy who makes
and passes it himself, for instance.
He's unknown to the stool pigeons,
has no criminal record, does up comparatively
small amounts and dribbles
his product onto the market over
a period of time. We had one old
devil up in New York once who actually
<em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">drew</span></em> one dollar bills. He was a
tremendous artist. It took us years to
get him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Well, why go
into all this? We're hardly dealing
with amateurs now.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve looked at him. <span class="tei tei-q">“That's the
trouble. We are.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Are you batty? Not even your
own experts can tell this product
from real money.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I didn't say it was being <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">made</span></em> by
amateurs. It's being <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">pushed</span></em> by amateurs—or
maybe amateur is the better
word.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“How do you know?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“For one thing, most professionals
won't touch anything bigger than a
twenty. Tens are better, fives better
still. When you pass a fifty, the person
you give it to is apt to remember
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page012">[pg 012]</span><a name="Pg012" id="Pg012" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
where he got it.”</span> Steve Hackett said
slowly, <span class="tei tei-q">“Particularly if you give one
as a tip to the <span lang="fr" class="tei tei-foreign" xml:lang="fr"><span style="font-style: italic">maître d'hôtel</span></span> in a
first-class restaurant. A <span lang="fr" class="tei tei-foreign" xml:lang="fr"><span style="font-style: italic">maître d'</span></span> holds
his job on the strength of his ability
to remember faces and names.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="text-align: center; margin-bottom: 1.00em">
</p><div class="tei tei-figure" style="width: 30%; text-align: center"><img src="images/p12.png" width="230" height="700" alt="Illustration." /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“What else makes you think your
pushers are amateurs?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Amateur,”</span> Hackett corrected.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Ideally, a pusher is an inconspicuous
type. The kind of person whose face
you'd never remember. It's never a
teenage girl who's blowing money.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
It was time to stare now, and Larry
Woolford obliged. <span class="tei tei-q">“A teenager!”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“We've had four descriptions of
her, one of them excellent. Fredrick,
the <span lang="fr" class="tei tei-foreign" xml:lang="fr"><span style="font-style: italic">maître d'</span></span> over at La Calvados, is
the one that counts, but the others
jibe. She's bought perfume and gloves
at Michel Swiss, the swankiest shop
in town, a dress at Chez Marie—she
passed three fifties there—and a hat
at Paulette's over on Monroe Street.</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“That's another sign of the amateur,
by the way. A competent pusher
buys a small item and gets change
from his counterfeit bill. Our girl's
been buying expensive items, obviously
more interested in the product
than in her change.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“This doesn't seem to make much
sense,”</span> Larry Woolford protested.
<span class="tei tei-q">“You have any ideas at all?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“The question is,”</span> Hackett said,
<span class="tei tei-q">“where did she get it? Is she connected
with one of the embassies and
acquired the stuff overseas? If so, that
puts it in your lap again possibly—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The phone rang and Steve flicked
the switch and grumbled, <span class="tei tei-q">“Yeah?
Steven Hackett speaking.”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page013">[pg 013]</span><a name="Pg013" id="Pg013" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He listened for a moment then
banged the phone off and jumped to
his feet. <span class="tei tei-q">“Come on, Larry,”</span> he
snapped. <span class="tei tei-q">“This is it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry stood, too. <span class="tei tei-q">“Who was that?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Fredrick, over at La Calvados. The
girl has come in for lunch. Let's go!”</span>
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
La Calvados was the swankiest
French restaurant in Greater Washington,
a city not devoid of swank
restaurants. Only the upper-echelons
in governmental circles could afford
its tariffs; the clientele was more apt
to consist of business mucky-mucks
and lobbyists on the make. Larry
Woolford had eaten here exactly
twice. You could get a reputation
spending money far beyond your obvious
pay status.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Fredrick, the <span lang="fr" class="tei tei-foreign" xml:lang="fr"><span style="font-style: italic">maître de hôtel</span></span>, however,
was able to greet them both by
name. <span class="tei tei-q">“Monsieur Hackett, Monsieur
Woolford,”</span> he bowed. He obviously
didn't approve of La Calvados being
used as a hangout where counterfeiters
were picked up the authorities.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Where is she?”</span> Steve said, looking
out over the public dining room.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Fredrick said, unprofessionally agitated,
<span class="tei tei-q">“See here, Monsieur Hackett,
you didn't expect to, ah, arrest the
young lady <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">here</span></em> during our lunch
hour?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve looked at him impatiently.
<span class="tei tei-q">“We don't exactly beat them over the
head with blackjacks, slip the bracelets
on and drag them screaming to
the paddywagon.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Of course not, monsieur, but—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford's chief dined
here several times a week and was
probably on the best of terms with
Fredrick whose decisions on tables
and whose degree of servility had a
good deal of influence on a man's
status in Greater Washington. Larry
said wearily, <span class="tei tei-q">“We can wait until she
leaves. Where is she?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Fredrick had taken them to one
side.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Do you see the young lady over
near the window on the park? The
rather gauche appearing type?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
It was a teenager, all right. A
youngster up to her eyebrows in the
attempt to project sophistication.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Do you know who she
is?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“No,”</span> Fredrick said. <span class="tei tei-q">“Hardly our
usual clientele.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Oh?”</span> Larry said. <span class="tei tei-q">“She looks like
money.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Fredrick said, <span class="tei tei-q">“The dress appears as
though it is of Chez Marie, but she
wears it as though it came from
Klein's. Her perfume is Chanel, but
she has used approximately three
times the quantity one would expect.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“That's our girl, all right,”</span> Steve
murmured. <span class="tei tei-q">“Where can we keep an
eye on her until she leaves?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Why not at the bar here, Messieurs?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Why not?”</span> Larry said. <span class="tei tei-q">“I could
use a drink.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Fredrick cleared his throat. <span class="tei tei-q">“Ah,
Messieurs, that fifty I turned over
you. I suppose it turned out to be
spurious?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve grinned at him. <span class="tei tei-q">“Afraid so,
Fredrick. The department is holding
it.”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page014">[pg 014]</span><a name="Pg014" id="Pg014" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry took out his wallet. <span class="tei tei-q">“However,
we have a certain leeway on expenses
on this assignment and appreciate
your co-operation.”</span> He
handed two twenties and a ten to the
<span lang="fr" class="tei tei-foreign" xml:lang="fr"><span style="font-style: italic">maître d'</span></span>. Fredrick bowed low, the
money disappearing into his clothes
magically. <span class="tei tei-q">“<span lang="fr" class="tei tei-foreign" xml:lang="fr"><span style="font-style: italic">Merci bien</span></span>, monsieur.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
At the bar, Steve scowled at his
colleague. <span class="tei tei-q">“Ha!”</span> he said. <span class="tei tei-q">“Why didn't
I think of that first? He'll get
down on his knees and bump his
head each time he sees you in the
joint from now on.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford waggled a finger
at the other. <span class="tei tei-q">“This is a status conscious
town, my boy. Prestige means
everything. When I take over my
Boss' job, maybe we can swing a
transfer and I'll give you a position
suitable to your attainments.”</span> He
pursed his lips judiciously. <span class="tei tei-q">“Although,
come to think of it, that
might mean a demotion from the job
you're holding now.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Vodka martini,”</span> Steve told the
bartender. <span class="tei tei-q">“Polish vodka, of course.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Of course, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Same for me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The bartender left and Steve muttered,
<span class="tei tei-q">“I hate vodka.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Yeah,”</span> Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“But what're
you going to do in a place like this,
order some weird drink?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve dug into his pocket for
money. <span class="tei tei-q">“We're not going to have to
drink them. Here she comes.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She walked with her head held
high, hauteur in every step. Ignoring
the peasants at the tables she passed.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Holy smokes,”</span> Steve grunted.
<span class="tei tei-q">“It's a wonder Fredrick let her in.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She hesitated momentarily before
the doorway of the prestige restaurant
allowing the passers-by to realize
she'd just emerged, and then
turned to her right to promenade
along the shopping street.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Fifty feet below La Calvados, Steve
said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Let's go, Woolford.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
One stepped to one elbow, the
other to the other. Steve said quietly,
<span class="tei tei-q">“I wonder if we could ask you a few
questions?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Her eyebrows went up, <span class="tei tei-q">“I <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">beg</span></em> your
pardon!”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve sighed and displayed the
badge pinned to his wallet, keeping
it inconspicuous. <span class="tei tei-q">“Secret Service,
Miss,”</span> he murmured.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Oh, devil,”</span> she said. She looked up
at Larry Woolford, and then back at
Steve.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Among other things,
we're in charge of counterfeit money.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She was about five foot four in her
heels, had obviously been on a round
of beauty shops and had obviously
instructed them to glamorize her. It
hadn't come off. She still looked as
though she'd be more at home as
cheerleader of the junior class in
small town high school. She was
honey blond, green-blue of eye, and
had that complexion they seldom
carry even into the twenties.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I ... I don't know what you're
talking about.”</span> Her chin began to
tremble.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said gently, <span class="tei tei-q">“Don't worry.
We just want to ask you some questions.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Well ... like what?”</span> She was
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page015">[pg 015]</span><a name="Pg015" id="Pg015" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
going to be blinking back tears in a
moment. At least Larry hoped she'd
blink them back. He'd hate to have
her start howling here in public.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“We think you can be of
assistance to the government, and
we'd like your help.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve rolled his eyes upward, but
turned and waved for a street level
cab.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
In the cab, Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Suppose we
go over to my office, Steve?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“O.K. with me,”</span> Steve muttered,
<span class="tei tei-q">“but by the looks of the young lady
here, I think it's a false alarm from
your angle. She's obviously an American.
What's your name, Miss?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“It's Zusanette. Well, really, Susan.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Susan what?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I ... I'm not sure I want to tell
you. I ... I want a lawyer.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“A lawyer!”</span> Steve snorted. <span class="tei tei-q">“You
mean you want the juvenile authorities,
don't you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Oh, what a mean thing to say,”</span>
she sputtered.
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
In the corridor outside the Boss'
suite of offices, Larry said to Steve,
<span class="tei tei-q">“You take Miss ... ah, Zusanette
to my office, will you Steve. I'll be
there in a minute.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He opened the door to the anteroom
and said, <span class="tei tei-q">“LaVerne, we've got a
girl in my office—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Why, Larry!”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He glowered at her. <span class="tei tei-q">“A suspect. I
want a complete tape of everything
said. As soon as we're through, have
copies made, at least three or four.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“And, who, Mr. Woolford, was
your girl Friday last year?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“This is important, honey. I suppose
you've supplied me with a secretary
but I haven't even met her
yet. Take care of it, will you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Sure enough, Larry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He followed Steve and the girl to
his office.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Once seated, the girl and Steve in
the only two extra chairs the cubicle
boasted and Larry behind his desk,
he looked at her in what he hoped
was reassurance. <span class="tei tei-q">“Just tell us where
you got the money, Zusanette.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve reached out a hand suddenly
and took her bag from her lap.
She gasped and snatched at it, but
he eluded her and she sat back, her
chin trembling again.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve came up with a thick sheaf
of bills, the top ones, at least, all
fifties and tossed them to Larry's
desk. He took out a school pass and
read, <span class="tei tei-q">“Susan Self, Elwood Avenue.”</span>
He looked up at Larry and said,
<span class="tei tei-q">“That's right off Eastern, near Paterson
Park in the Baltimore section of
town, isn't it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said to her, <span class="tei tei-q">“Zusanette, I think
you'd better tell us where you got all
this money.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I found it,”</span> she said defiantly.
<span class="tei tei-q">“You can't do anything to me if I
simply found it. Anybody can find
money. Finders keepers—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“But if it's counterfeit,”</span> Steve interrupted
dryly, <span class="tei tei-q">“it might also be,
finders weepers.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Where did you find it, Zusanette?”</span>
Larry said gently.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She tightened her lips, and the
trembling of her chin disappeared.
<span class="tei tei-q">“I ... I can't tell you that. But it's
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page016">[pg 016]</span><a name="Pg016" id="Pg016" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
not counterfeit. Daddy ... my father
said it was as good as any money
the government prints.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“That it is,”</span> Steve said sourly.
<span class="tei tei-q">“But it's still counterfeit, which
makes it very illegal indeed to spend,
Miss Self.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She looked from one of them
to the other, not clear about her position.
She said to Larry, <span class="tei tei-q">“You mean
it's not <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">real</span></em> money?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He kept his tone disarming, but
shook his head, <span class="tei tei-q">“I'm afraid not, Zusanette.
Now, tell us, where did you
find it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I can't. I promised”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I see. Then you don't know to
whom it originally belonged?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“It didn't belong to anybody.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve Hackett made with a disbelieving
whistle. He was taking the
part of the tough, suspicious cop;
Larry the part of the understanding,
sympathetic officer, trying to give the
suspect a break.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Susan Self turned quickly on Steve.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Well, it didn't. You don't even
know.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“I think she's telling the
truth, Steve. Give her a chance. She's
playing fair.”</span> He looked back at the
girl, and frowned his puzzlement.
<span class="tei tei-q">“All money belongs to <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">somebody</span></em>
doesn't it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She had them now. She said superiorly.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Not necessarily to some<em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">body</span></em>.
It can belong to, like, an organization.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve grunted skepticism. <span class="tei tei-q">“I think
we ought to arrest her,”</span> he said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry held up a hand, his face registering
opposition. <span class="tei tei-q">“I'll handle this,”</span>
he said sharply. <span class="tei tei-q">“Zusanette is doing
everything she can to co-operate.”</span> He
turned back to the girl. <span class="tei tei-q">“Now, the
question is, what organization did this
money belong to?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She looked triumphantly at Steve
Hackett. <span class="tei tei-q">“It belonged to the Movement.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
They both looked at her.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve said finally, <span class="tei tei-q">“What movement?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She pouted in thought. <span class="tei tei-q">“That's the
only name they call it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Who's they?”</span> Steve snapped nastily.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I ... I don't know.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Well, you already told
us your father was a member, Zusanette.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Her eyes went wide. <span class="tei tei-q">“I did? I
shouldn't have said that.”</span> But she
evidently took him at his word.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said encouragingly, <span class="tei tei-q">“Well,
we might as well go on. Who else is
a member of this Movement besides
your father?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She shifted in her chair uncomfortably.
<span class="tei tei-q">“I don't know any of their names.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve looked down at the school
pass in his hands. He said to Larry,
<span class="tei tei-q">“I'd better make a phone call.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He left.
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Don't worry about him,
Zusanette. Now then, this <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">movement</span></em>.
That's kind of a funny name, isn't it?
What does it mean?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She was evidently glad that the less
than handsome Steve Hackett had
left the room. Her words flowed more
freely. <span class="tei tei-q">“Well, Daddy says that they
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page017">[pg 017]</span><a name="Pg017" id="Pg017" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
call it the Movement rather than a
revolution....”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
An ice cube manifested itself in
the stomach of Lawrence Woolford.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“... Because people get conditioned,
like, to words. Like revolution.
Everybody is against the word
because they all think of killing and
everything, and, Daddy says, there
doesn't have to be any shooting or
killing or anything like that at all. It
just means a fundamental change in
society. And, Daddy says, take the
word propaganda. Everybody's got to
thinking that it automatically means
lies, but it doesn't at all. It just means,
like, the arguments you use to convince
people that what you stand for
is right and it might be lies or it
might not. And, Daddy says, take the
word socialism. So many people have
the wrong idea of what it means that
the socialists ought to scrap the word
and start using something else to
mean what they stand for.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said gently, <span class="tei tei-q">“Your father is
a socialist?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Oh, no.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He nodded in understanding. <span class="tei tei-q">“Oh,
a Communist, eh?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Susan Self was indignant. <span class="tei tei-q">“Daddy
thinks the Communists are strictly
awful, really weird.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve Hackett came back into the
office. He said to Larry, <span class="tei tei-q">“I sent a couple
of the boys out to pick him up.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Susan was on her feet, a hand to
mouth. <span class="tei tei-q">“You mean my father! You're
going to arrest him!”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said soothingly, <span class="tei tei-q">“Sit down,
Zusanette. There's a lot of things
about this that I'm sure your father
can explain.”</span> He said to Steve, <span class="tei tei-q">“She
tells me that the money belonged to
a movement. A revolutionary movement
which doesn't use the term
revolutionary because people react
unfavorably to that word. It's not
Commie.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Susan said indignantly, <span class="tei tei-q">“It's American,
not anything foreign!”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve growled, <span class="tei tei-q">“Let's get back to
the money. What's this movement doing
with a lot of counterfeit bills and
where did you find them?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She evidently figured she'd gone
too far now to take a stand. <span class="tei tei-q">“It's not
Daddy's fault,”</span> she said. <span class="tei tei-q">“He took me
to headquarters twice.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Where's headquarters?”</span> Larry said
trying to keep his voice soothing.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Well ... I don't know. Daddy
was awfully silly about it. He tied his
handkerchief around my eyes near
the end. But the others complained
about me anyway, and Daddy got awfully
mad and said something about
the young people of the country participating
in their emancipation and
all, but the others got mad too, and
said there wasn't any kind of help I
could do around headquarters anyway,
and I'd be better off in school.
Everybody got awfully mad, but after
the second time Daddy promised not
to take me to headquarters any more.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“But where did you find the money,
Zusannette?”</span> Larry said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“At headquarters. There's tons and
tons of it there.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry cleared his throat and said,
<span class="tei tei-q">“When you say tons and tons, you
mean a great deal of it, eh?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She was proudly definite. <span class="tei tei-q">“I mean
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page018">[pg 018]</span><a name="Pg018" id="Pg018" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
tons and tons. A ton is two thousand
pounds.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Look, Zusanette,”</span> Larry said reasonably.
<span class="tei tei-q">“I don't know how much
money weighs, exactly, but let's say a
pound would be, say, a thousand bills.”</span>
He took up a pencil and scribbled on
a pad before him. <span class="tei tei-q">“A pound of fifties
would be $50,000. Then if you multiply
that by 2,000 pounds to make a
ton, you'd have $100,000,000. And
you say there's tons and tons?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“And that's just the fifties,”</span> Susan
said triumphantly. <span class="tei tei-q">“So you can see
the two little packages I picked up
aren't really important at all. It's just
like I found them.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I don't think there's quite a thousand
bills in a pound,”</span> Steve said weakly.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“How much other money
is there?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Oh, piles. Whole rooms. Rooms
after rooms. And hundred dollar bills,
and twenties, and fives, and tens—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Look, Zusanette,
I don't think you're in any position to be
telling us whoppers. This whole story
doesn't make much sense, does it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Her mouth tightened. <span class="tei tei-q">“I'm not going
to say anything more until Daddy
gets here, anyway,”</span> she said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Which was when the phone rang.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I have an idea that's for me,”</span>
Steve said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The screen lit up and LaVerne Polk
said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Call for Steve Hackett, Larry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry pushed the phone around so
Steve could look into it. LaVerne
flicked off and was replaced by a
stranger in uniform. Steve said,
<span class="tei tei-q">“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The cop said, <span class="tei tei-q">“He's flown the coop,
sir. Must have got out just minutes
before we arrived. Couldn't have taken
more than a suitcase. Few papers
scattered around the room he used
for an office.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Susan gasped, <span class="tei tei-q">“You mean Daddy?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve Hackett rubbed a hand over
his flattened nose. <span class="tei tei-q">“Holy Smokes,”</span> he
said. He thanked the cop and flicked
off.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Look Zusanette, everything's
going to be all right. Nothing
will happen to you. You say you managed
to pick up two packets of all
this money they have at headquarters.
O.K. So you thought it wouldn't be
missed and you've always wanted to
spend money the way you see the
stars do on TriD and in the movies.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She looked at him, taken back.
<span class="tei tei-q">“How did you know?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said dryly, <span class="tei tei-q">“I've always wanted
to myself. But I would like to know
one more thing. The Movement.
What was it going to do with all this
money?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
That evidently puzzled her. <span class="tei tei-q">“The
Professor said they were going to
spend it on chorus girls. I guess ...
I guess he was joking or something.
But Daddy and I'd just been up to
New York and we saw those famous
precision dancers at the New Roxy
Theatre and all and then when we got
back the Professor and Daddy were
talking and I heard him say it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve said, carefully, <span class="tei tei-q">“Professor
who?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Susan said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Just the Professor.
That's all we ever call him.”</span> Her chin
went to trembling still again.
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page019">[pg 019]</span><a name="Pg019" id="Pg019" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry summed it up for the Boss
later.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
His chief scoffed his disbelief. <span class="tei tei-q">“The
child is full of dreams, Lawrence. It
comes from seeing an over-abundance
of these TriD shows. I have a girl the
same age. I don't know what is happening
to the country. They have no
sense of reality.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford said mildly, <span class="tei tei-q">“Well,
she might be full of nonsense, but she
did have the fifties, and she's our only
connection with whoever printed
them whether it's a movement to
overthrow the government, or what.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss said tolerantly, <span class="tei tei-q">“Movement,
indeed. Obviously, her father
produced them and she purloined a
quantity before he was ready to attempt
to pass them. Have you a run
down on him yet?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Susan Self says her father, Ernest
Self, is an inventor. Steve Hackett is
working on locating him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“He's an inventor indeed. Evidently,
he has invented a perfect counterfeiting
device. However, that is the
Secret Service's headache, not ours.
Do you wish to resume that vacation
of yours, Lawrence?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
His operative twisted his face in a
grimace. <span class="tei tei-q">“Sure, I do, but I'm not happy
about this, sir. What happens if there
really is an organization, a
Movement, like she said? That brings
it back under our jurisdiction, anti-subversion.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The other shook his head tolerantly.
<span class="tei tei-q">“See here, Lawrence, when you begin
scheming a social revolution you
can't plan on an organization composed
of a small number of persons
who keep their existence secret. In
spite of what a good many persons
seem to believe, revolutions are not
accomplished by handfuls of conspirators
hiding in cellars and eventually
overthrowing society by dramatically
shooting the President, or King, or
Czar, or whoever. Revolutions are
precipitated by masses of people.
People who have ample cause to be against
whatever the current government happens to be. Usually,
they are on the point of actual
starvation. Have you ever read Machiavelli?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Niccolo Machiavelli was currently
<em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">the thing</span></em> to read. Larry said with a
certain dignity, <span class="tei tei-q">“I've gone through
<span class="tei tei-q">‘The Prince,’</span> the <span class="tei tei-q">‘Discourses’</span> and currently
I'm amusing myself with his
<span class="tei tei-q">‘History of Florence.’</span> ”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Anybody who can amuse himself
reading Machiavelli,”</span> the Boss said
dryly, <span class="tei tei-q">“has a macabre sense of humor.
At any rate, what I was alluding to was
where he stated that the Prince cannot
rule indefinitely in the face of the
active opposition of his people.
Therefore, the people always get a
government that lies within the limits
of their tolerance. It may be on
one edge or the other of their limits
of tolerance—but it's always within
their tolerance zone.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry frowned and said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Well,
what's your point, sir?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss said patiently, <span class="tei tei-q">“I'm just
observing that cultures aren't overthrown
by little handfuls of secret
conspirators. You might eliminate a
few individuals in that manner, in
other words change the personnel of
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page020">[pg 020]</span><a name="Pg020" id="Pg020" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
the government, but you aren't going
to alter a socio-economic system. That
can't be done until your people have
been pushed outside their limits of
tolerance. Very well then. A revolutionary
organization must get out
and propagandize. It has got to convince
the people that they are being
pushed beyond endurance. You
have got to get the <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">masses</span></em> to moving. You
have to give speeches, print newspapers,
books, pamphlets, you have
got to send your organizers out to intensify
interest in your program.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“I see what you mean.
If this so-called Movement actually
existed it couldn't expect to get anywhere
as long as remained secret.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss nodded. <span class="tei tei-q">“That is correct.
The <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">leaders</span></em> of a revolutionary movement
might be intellectuals, social
scientists, scholars—in fact they usually
are—take our own American
Revolution with Jefferson, Madison,
Franklin, Washington. Or the French
Revolution with Robespierre, Danton,
Marat, Engels and Lenin. All were
well educated intellectuals from
the middle class. But the revolution itself,
once it starts, comes from below,
from the mass of people pushed beyond
tolerance.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
It came to Lawrence Woolford that
his superior had achieved to his
prominent office not through any
fluke. He knew what he was talking
about.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss wound it up. <span class="tei tei-q">“If there was
such an organization as this Movement,
then this department would
know about it. You don't keep a
revolutionary movement secret. It
doesn't make sense to even try. Even
if it is forced underground, it makes
as much noise as it can.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
His trouble shooter cleared his
throat. <span class="tei tei-q">“I suppose you're right, sir.”</span>
He added hesitantly. <span class="tei tei-q">“We could always
give Susan Self a few drops of
Scop-Serum, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss scowled disapprovingly.
<span class="tei tei-q">“You know how the Supreme Court
ruled on that, Lawrence. And particularly
since the medics revealed its effect
on reducing sexual inhibitions.
No, Mr. Hackett and Secret Service
will have to get the truth out of the
girl by some other means. At any
rate, it is out of our hands.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry came to his feet. <span class="tei tei-q">“Well, then,
I'll resume my vacation, eh?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
His chief took up a report from his
desk an frowned at it, his attention
already passing to other matters. He
grunted, <span class="tei tei-q">“Clear it with LaVerne,
please. Tell her I said to take another
week to make up for our intruding
on you in this manner.”</span>
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
In the back of his head, Larry
Woolford had misgivings. For one
thing, where had the kid, who on the
face of her performance was no great
brain even as sixteen or seventeen
old's go, picked up such ideas as the
fact that people developed prejudices
against words like revolution and
propaganda?
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
However, he was clear of it now.
Let Steve Hackett and his people take
over. He, Lawrence Woolford, was
due for a quick return to Astor, Florida
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page021">[pg 021]</span><a name="Pg021" id="Pg021" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
and the bass fishing on the
St. John's River.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He stopped at LaVerne's desk and
gave her his address to be, now that
his vacation was resumed.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She said, smiling up at him. <span class="tei tei-q">“Right.
The boss already told me to get in
touch with Secret Service and let
them know we're pulling out. What
happened to Susan Self?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry looked at her. <span class="tei tei-q">“How'd you
know about Susan?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Her tone was deprecating. <span class="tei tei-q">“Remember?
You had me cut some
tapes on you and that hulking Steve
Hackett grilling the poor kid.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry snorted. <span class="tei tei-q">“Poor kid, yet. With
her tastes for living-it-up, and that
father she has, she'll probably spend
the rest of her life getting in Steve's
hair as a counterfeit pusher.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“What are they going to do with
her? She's just a child.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The agent shrugged. <span class="tei tei-q">“I feel sorry
for her, too, LaVerne. Steve's got her
in a suite at the Greater Washington
Hilton, until things are cleared up.
They don't want the newspapers to
get wind of this until they've got that
inventor father of hers and whatever
he's cooked up to turn out perfect
reproductions of Uncle Sam's money.
Look, I won't be leaving until tomorrow.
What'd you say we go out on
the town tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Why, Larry Woolford! How nice
of you to ask me. Poor Little, Non-U
me. What do you have in mind? I
understand Mort Lenny's at one of
the night clubs.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry winced. <span class="tei tei-q">“You know what
he's been saying about the administration.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She smiled sweetly at him.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Look, we could take in
the Brahms concert, then—”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page022">[pg 022]</span><a name="Pg022" id="Pg022" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Do you like Brahms? I go for
popular music myself. Preferably the
sort of thing they wrote back in the
1930s. Something you can dance to,
something you know the words to.
Corny, they used to call it. Remember
<span class="tei tei-q">‘Sunny Side of the Street,’</span> and <span class="tei tei-q">‘Just
the Way You Look Tonight’</span>.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry winced again. He said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Look,
I admit, I don't go for concerts either
but it doesn't hurt you to—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I know,”</span> she said sweetly. <span class="tei tei-q">“It
doesn't hurt for a bright young bureaucrat
to be seen at concerts.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“How about Dixieland?”</span> he said.
<span class="tei tei-q">“It's all the thing now.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I like corn. Besides, my wardrobe
is all out of style. Paris, London, and
Rome just got in a huddle a couple of
weeks ago and antiquated everything
I own. You wouldn't want to be seen
with a girl a few weeks out of date,
would you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Oh, now, LaVerne, get off my
back.”</span> He thought about it. <span class="tei tei-q">“Look,
you must have <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">something</span></em> you could
wear.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Get out of here, you vacant minded
conformist! I <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">like</span></em> Mort Lenny, he
makes me laugh; I <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">hate</span></em> vodka martinis,
they give me sour stomach; I
don't <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">like</span></em> the current women's styles,
nor the men's either.”</span> LaVerne spun
back to her auto-typer and began to
dictate into it.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry glared down at her. <span class="tei tei-q">“All
right. O.K. What <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">do</span></em> you like?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She snapped back irrationally, <span class="tei tei-q">“I
like what <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">I</span></em> like.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He laughed at her in ridicule.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
This time she glared at him. <span class="tei tei-q">“That
makes more sense than you're capable
of assimilating, Mr. Walking Status
Symbol. My likes and dislikes aren't
dictated by someone else. If I like
corny music, I'll listen to it and the
devil with Brahms or Dixieland or
anything else that somebody else tells
me is all the thing!”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He turned on his heel angrily.
<span class="tei tei-q">“O.K., O.K., it takes all sorts to make a
world, weirds and all.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“One more label to hang on people,”</span>
she snarled after him. <span class="tei tei-q">“Everything's
labels. Be sure and never
come to any judgments of your own!”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
What a woman! He wondered why
he'd ever bothered to ask her for a
date. There were so many women in
this town you waded through them,
and here he was exposing himself to
be seen in public with a girl everybody
in the department knew was as
weird as they came. It didn't do your
standing any good to be seen around
with the type. He wondered all over
again why the Boss tolerated her as
his receptionist-secretary.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He got his car from the parking lot
and drove home at a high level. Ordinarily,
the distance being what it
was, he drove in the lower and slower
traffic levels but now his frustration
demanded some expression.
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Back at his suburban auto-bungalow,
he threw all except the high
priority switch and went on down
into his small second cellar den. He
didn't really feel like a night on the
town anyway. A few vodka martinis
under his belt and he'd sleep late and
he wanted to get up in time for an
early start for Florida. Besides, in that
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page023">[pg 023]</span><a name="Pg023" id="Pg023" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
respect he agreed with the irritating
wench. Vermouth was never meant to
mix with Polish vodka. He wished
that Sidecars would come back.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
In his den, he shucked off his jacket,
kicked off his shoes and shuffled into
Moroccan slippers. He went over to
his current reading rack and scowled
at the paperbacks there. His culture
status books were upstairs where they
could be seen. He pulled out a western,
tossed it over to the cocktail table
that sat next to his chair, and then
went over to the bar.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Up above in his living room, he
had one of the new autobars. You
could dial any one of more than thirty
drinks. Autobars were all the rage.
The Boss had one that gave a selection
of a hundred. But what difference
did it make when nobody but
eccentric old-timers or flighty blondes
drank anything except vodka martinis?
He didn't like autobars anyway.
A well mixed drink is a personal
thing, a work of competence, instinct
and art, not something measured to
the drop, iced to the degree, shaken
or stirred to a mathematical formula.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Out of the tiny refrigerator he
brought a four-ounce cube of frozen
pineapple juice, touched the edge
with his thumbnail and let the ultra
thin plastic peel away. He tossed the
cube into his mixer, took up a bottle
of light rum and poured in about
two ounces. He brought an egg from
the refrigerator and added that. An
ounce of whole milk followed and a
teaspoon of powdered sugar. He
flicked the switch and let the conglomeration
froth together.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He poured it into a king-size
highball glass and took it over to his
chair. Vodka martinis be damned, he
liked a slightly sweet long drink.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He sat down in the chair, picked up
the book and scowled at the cover. He
ought to be reading that Florentine
history of Machiavelli's, especially if
the Boss had got to the point where
he was quoting from the guy. But the
heck with it, he was on vacation. He
didn't think much of the Italian diplomat
of the Renaissance anyway;
how could you be that far back without
being dated?
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He couldn't get beyond the first
page or two.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
And when you can't concentrate
on a Western, you just can't concentrate.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He finished his drink, went over to
his phone and dialed <span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">Department of
Records</span></span> and then <span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">Information</span></span>. When
the bright young thing answered, he
said, <span class="tei tei-q">“I'd like the brief on an Ernest
Self who lives on Elwood Avenue,
Baltimore section of Greater Washington.
I don't know his code number.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She did things with switches and
buttons for a moment and then
brought a sheet from a delivery chute.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Do you want me to read it to you,
sir?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“No, I'll scan it,”</span> Larry said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Her face faded to be replaced by
the brief on Ernest Self.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
It was astonishingly short. <span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">Records</span></span>
seemed to have slipped up on this occasion.
A rare occurrence. He considered
requesting the full dossier, then
changed his mind. Instead he dialed
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page024">[pg 024]</span><a name="Pg024" id="Pg024" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
the number of the <span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">Sun-Post</span></span> and
asked for its science columnist.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Sam Sokolski's puffy face eventually
faded in.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said to him sourly, <span class="tei tei-q">“You
drink too much. You can begin to see
the veins breaking in your nose.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Sam looked at him patiently.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“How'd you like to
come over and toss back a few tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I'm working. I thought you were
on vacation.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry sighed. <span class="tei tei-q">“I am,”</span> he said. <span class="tei tei-q">“O.K.,
so you can't take a night off and lift a
few with an old buddy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“That's right. Anything else, Larry?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Yes. Look, have you ever heard of
an inventor named Ernest Self?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Sure I've heard of him. Covered a
hassle he got into some years ago. A
nice guy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I'll bet,”</span> Larry said. <span class="tei tei-q">“What does he
invent, something to do with printing
presses, or something?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Printing presses? Don't you remember
the story about him?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Brief me,”</span> Larry said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Well—briefly does it—it got out a
couple of years ago that some of our
rocketeers had bought a solid fuel formula
from an Italian research outfit
for the star probe project. Paid them
a big hunk of Uncle's change for it.
So Self sued.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“You're being <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">too</span></em> brief.
What d'ya mean, he sued? Why?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Because he claimed he'd submitted
the same formula to the same
agency a full eighteen months earlier
and they'd turned him down.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Had he?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Probably.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry didn't get it. <span class="tei tei-q">“Then why'd
they turn him down?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Sam said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Oh, the government
boys had a good alibi. Crackpots turn
up all over the place and you have to
brush them off. Every cellar scientist
who comes along and says he's got a
new super-fuel developed from old
coffee grounds can't be given the welcome
mat. Something was wrong
with his math or something and they
didn't pay much attention to him.
Wouldn't even let him demonstrate
it. But it was the same formula, all
right.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford was scowling.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Something wrong with his math?
What kind of a degree does he have?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Sam grinned in memory. <span class="tei tei-q">“I got a
good quote on that. He doesn't have
any degree. He said he'd learned to
read by the time he'd reached high
school and since then he figured
spending time in classrooms was a
matter of interfering with his education.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“No wonder they turned him down.
No degree at all. You can't get anywhere
in science like that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Sam said, <span class="tei tei-q">“The courts rejected his
suit but he got a certain amount of
support here and there. Peter Voss,
over at the university, claims he's one
of the great intuitive scientists, whatever
that is, of our generation.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Who said that?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Professor Voss. Not that it makes
any difference what he says. Another
crackpot.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
After Sam's less than handsome face
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page025">[pg 025]</span><a name="Pg025" id="Pg025" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
was gone from the phone, Larry
walked over to the bar with his empty
glass and stared at the mixer for several
minutes. He began to make himself
another flip, but cut it short in
the middle, put down the ingredients
and went back to the phone to dial
<span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">Records</span></span> again.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He went through first the brief and
then the full dossier on Professor
Peter Luther Voss. Aside from his
academic accomplishments, particularly
in the fields of political economy
and international law, and the dozen
or so books accredited to him, there
wasn't anything particularly noteworthy.
A bachelor in his fifties. No
criminal record of any kind, of course,
and no military career. No known political
affiliations. Evidently a strong
predilection for Thorstein Veblen's
theories. And he'd been a friend of
Henry Mencken back when that old
nonconformist was tearing down contemporary
society seemingly largely
for the fun involved in the tearing.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
On the face of it, the man was no
radical, and the term <span class="tei tei-q">“crackpot”</span>
which Sam had applied was hardly
called for.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford went back to the
bar and resumed the job of mixing
his own version of a rum flip.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
But his heart wasn't in it. <span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">The Professor</span></span>,
Susan had said.
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Before he'd gone to bed the night
before, Larry Woolford had ordered a
seat on the shuttle jet for Jacksonville
and a hover-cab there to take
him to Astor, on the St. Johns River.
And he'd requested to be wakened in
ample time to get to the shuttleport.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
But it wasn't the saccharine pleasant
face of the Personal Service operator
which confronted him when he
grumpily answered the phone in the
morning. In fact, the screen remained
blank.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry decided that sweet long
drinks were fine, but that anyone who
took several of them in a row needed
to be candied. He grumbled into the
phone, <span class="tei tei-q">“All right, who is it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
A Teutonic voice chuckled and
said, <span class="tei tei-q">“You're going to have to decide
whether or not you're on vacation, my
friend. At this time of day, why aren't
you at work?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford was waking up. He
said, <span class="tei tei-q">“What can I do for you, Distelmayer?”</span>
The German merchant-of-espionage
wasn't the type to make
personal calls.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Have you forgotten so soon, my
friend?”</span> the other chuckled. <span class="tei tei-q">“It was I
who was going to do you a favor.”</span> He
hesitated momentarily, before adding,
<span class="tei tei-q">“In possible return for future—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Yeah, yeah,”</span> Larry said. He was
fully awake now.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The German said slowly, <span class="tei tei-q">“You
asked if any of your friends from, ah,
abroad were newly in the country.
Frol Eivazov has recently appeared on
the scene.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Eivazov! In various respects, Larry
Woolford's counterpart. Hatchetman
for the <span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">Chrezvychainaya Komissiya</span></span>.
Woolford had met him on occasion
when they'd both been present at international
summit meetings, busily
working at counter-espionage for
their respective superiors. Blandly
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page026">[pg 026]</span><a name="Pg026" id="Pg026" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
shaking hands with each other, blandly
drinking toasts to peace and international
co-existence, blandly sizing
each other up and wondering if it'd
ever come to the point where one
would <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">blandly</span></em> treat the other to a
hole in the head, possibly in some
dark alley in Havana or Singapore,
Leopoldville or Saigon.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said sharply, <span class="tei tei-q">“Where is he?
How'd he get in the country?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“My friend, my friend,”</span> the German
grunted good-humoredly. <span class="tei tei-q">“You
know better than to ask the first question.
As for the second, Frol's command
of American-English is at least
as good as your own. Do you think
his <span class="tei tei-foreign"><span style="font-style: italic">Komissiya</span></span> less capable than your
own department and unable to do
him up suitable papers so that he
could be, perhaps, a <span class="tei tei-q">‘returning tourist’</span>
from Europe?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford was impatient with
himself for asking. He said now, <span class="tei tei-q">“It's
not important. If we want to locate
Frol and pick him up, we'll probably
not have too much trouble doing it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I wouldn't think so,”</span> the other
said humorously. <span class="tei tei-q">“Since 1919, when
they were first organized, the so-called
Communists in this country,
from the lowest to the highest echelons,
have been so riddled with police
agents that a federal judge in New
England once refused to prosecute a
case against them on the grounds that
the party was a United States government
agency.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry was in no frame of mind for
the other's heavy humor. <span class="tei tei-q">“Look,
Hans,”</span> he said, <span class="tei tei-q">“what I want to know
is what Frol is over here for.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Of course you do,”</span> Hans Distelmayer
said, unable evidently to keep
note of puzzlement from his voice.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Larry,”</span> he said, <span class="tei tei-q">“I assume your people
know of the new American underground.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“<em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">What</span></em> underground?”</span> Larry
snapped.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The professional spy chief said, his
voice strange, <span class="tei tei-q">“The Soviets seem to
have picked up an idea somewhere,
possibly through their membership in
this country, that something is abrewing
in the States. That a change is
being engineered.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry stared at the blank phone
screen.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“What kind of a change?”</span> he said
finally. <span class="tei tei-q">“You mean a change to the
Soviet system?”</span> Surely not even the
self-deluding Russkies could think it
possible to overthrow the American
socio-economic system in favor of the
Soviet brand.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“No, no, no,”</span> the German chuckled.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Of course not. It's not of their
working at all.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Then what's Frol Eivazov's interest,
if they aren't engineering it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Distelmayer rumbled his characteristic
chuckle with humor. <span class="tei tei-q">“My dear
friend, don't be naive. Anything that
happens in America is of interest to
the Soviets. There is delicate peace
between you now that they have
changed their direction and are occupying
themselves largely with the
economic and agricultural development
of Asia and such portions of
the world as have come under their
hegemony, and while you put all efforts
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page027">[pg 027]</span><a name="Pg027" id="Pg027" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
into modernizing the more backward
countries among your satellites.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said automatically, <span class="tei tei-q">“Our allies
aren't satellites.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The spy-master went on without
contesting the statement. <span class="tei tei-q">“There is
immediate peace but surely governmental
officials on both sides keep
careful watch on the internal developments
of the other. True, the current
heads of the Soviet Complex
would like to see the governments of
all the Western powers changed—but
only if they are changed in the direction
of communism. They are hardly
interested in seeing changes made
which would strengthen the West in
the, ah, Battle For Men's Minds.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry snorted his disgust. <span class="tei tei-q">“What
sort of change in government would
strengthen the United States in—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The German interrupted smoothly,
<span class="tei tei-q">“Evidently, that's what Frol seems to
be here for, Larry. To find out more
about this movement and—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“This <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">what</span></em>?”</span> Larry blurted.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“The term seems to be <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">movement</span></em>.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford held a long silence
before saying, <span class="tei tei-q">“And Frol is actually
here in this country to buck this ...
this movement.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Not necessarily,”</span> the other said
impatiently. <span class="tei tei-q">“He is here to find out
more about it. Evidently Peking and
Moscow have heard just enough to
make them nervous.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“You have anything
more, Hans?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I'm afraid that's about it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“All right,”</span> Larry said. He added
absently, <span class="tei tei-q">“Thanks, Hans.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Thank me some day with deeds,
not with words,”</span> the German chuckled.
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford looked at his watch
and grimaced. He was either going to
get going now or forget about doing
any fishing in Florida this afternoon.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Grudgingly, he dialed the phone
company's Personal Service and said
to the impossibly cheerful blonde
who answered, <span class="tei tei-q">“Where can I find
Professor Peter Voss who teaches
over at the University in Baltimore? I
don't want to talk with him, just want
to know where he'll be an hour from
now.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
While waiting for his information,
he dressed, deciding inwardly that he
hated his job, the department in
which he was employed, the Boss and
Greater Washington. On top of that,
he hated himself. He'd already been
taken off this assignment, why couldn't
he leave it lay?
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The blonde rang him back. Professor
Peter Voss was at home. He had
no classes today. She gave him the
address.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford raised his car from
his auto-bungalow in the Brandywine
suburb and headed northwest at a
high level for the old Baltimore section
of the city.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor's house, he noted,
was of an earlier day and located on
the opposite side of Paterson Park
from Elwood avenue, the street on
which Susan Self and her father had
resided. That didn't necessarily hold
significance, the park was a large one
and the Professor's section a well-to-do
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page028">[pg 028]</span><a name="Pg028" id="Pg028" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
neighborhood, while Self's was
just short of a slum these days.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He brought his car down to street
level, and parked before the scholar's
three-story, brick house. Baltimore-like,
it was identical to every
other house in the block; Larry wondered
vaguely how anybody ever
managed to find his own place when
it was very dark out.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
There was an old-fashioned bell at
the side of the entrance and Larry
Woolford pushed it. There was no
identification screen in the door, evidently
the inhabitants had to open up
to see who was calling, a tiring chore
if you were on the far side of the
house and the caller nothing more
than a salesman.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
It was obviously the Professor himself
who answered.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He was in shirtsleeves, tieless and
with age-old slippers on his stockingless
feet. He evidently hadn't bothered
to shave this morning and he
held a dog-earred pamphlet in his
right hand, his forefinger tucked in it
to mark his place. He wore thick-lensed,
gold-rimmed glasses through
which he blinked at Larry Woolford
questioningly, without speaking. Professor
Peter Voss was a man in his
mid fifties, and, on the face of it,
couldn't care less right now about his
physical appearance.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
A weird, Larry decided immediately.
He wondered at the University,
one of the nation's best, keeping on
such a figure.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Professor Voss?”</span> he said. <span class="tei tei-q">“Lawrence
Woolford.”</span> He brought forth
his identification.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor blinked down at it.
<span class="tei tei-q">“I see,”</span> he said. <span class="tei tei-q">“Won't you come
in?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The house was old, all right. From
the outside, quite acceptable, but the
interior boasted few of the latest
amenities which made all the difference
in modern existence. Larry was
taken back by the fact that the phone
which he spotted in the <span class="tei tei-foreign"><span style="font-style: italic">entrada</span></span> hadn't
even a screen—an old model for
speaking only.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor noticed his glance
and said dryly, <span class="tei tei-q">“The advantages of
combining television and telephone
have never seemed valid to me. In my
own home, I feel free to relax, as you
can observe. Had I a screen on my
phone, it would be necessary for me
to maintain the same appearance as I
must on the streets or before my
classes.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry cleared his throat without
saying anything. This was a weird
one, all right.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The living room was comfortable
in a blatantly primitive way. Three or
four paintings on the walls which
were probably originals, Larry decided,
and should have been in museums.
Not an abstract among them.
A Grant Wood, a Marin, and that
over there could only be a Grandma
Moses. The sort of things you might
keep in your private den, but hardly to
be seen as culture symbols.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The chairs were large, of leather,
and comfortable and probably belonged
to the period before the Second
War. Peter Voss, evidently, was
little short of an exhibitionist.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor took up a battered
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page029">[pg 029]</span><a name="Pg029" id="Pg029" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
humidor. <span class="tei tei-q">“Cigar?”</span> he said. <span class="tei tei-q">“Manila.
Hard to get these days.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
A cigar? Good grief, the man
would be offering him a chaw of tobacco
next.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Thanks, no,”</span> Larry said. <span class="tei tei-q">“I smoke
a pipe.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I see,”</span> the Professor said, lighting
his stogie. <span class="tei tei-q">“Do you really like a pipe?
Personally, I've always thought the
cigar by far the most satisfactory
method of taking tobacco.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
What can you say to a question like
that? Larry ignored it, as though it
was rhetorical. Actually, he smoked
cigarettes in the privacy of his den. A
habit which was on the proletarian
side and not consistent with his status
level.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He said, to get things under way,
<span class="tei tei-q">“Professor Voss, what is an intuitive
scientist?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor exhaled blue smoke,
shook out the old-time kitchen match
with which he'd lit it, and tossed the
matchstick into an ashtray. <span class="tei tei-q">“Intuitive
scientist?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“You once called Ernest Self a
great intuitive scientist.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Oh, Self. Yes, indeed. What is he
doing these days?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said wryly, <span class="tei tei-q">“That's what I
came to ask you about.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor was puzzled. <span class="tei tei-q">“I'm
afraid you came to the wrong place,
Mr. Woolford. I haven't seen Ernest
for quite a time. Why?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Some of his researches seem to
have taken him rather far afield. Actually,
I know practically nothing
about him. I wonder if you could fill
me in a bit.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Peter Voss looked at the ash on the
end of his cigar. <span class="tei tei-q">“I really don't know
the man that well. He lives across the
park. Why don't—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“He's disappeared,”</span> Larry said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor blinked. <span class="tei tei-q">“I see,”</span> he
said. <span class="tei tei-q">“And in view of the fact that you
are a security officer, I assume under
strange circumstances.”</span> Larry Woolford
said nothing and the Professor
sank back into his chair and pursed
his lips. <span class="tei tei-q">“I can't really tell you much.
I became interested in Self two or
three years ago when gathering materials
for a paper on the inadequate
manner in which our country rewards
its inventors.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“I've heard about his suit
against the government.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor became more animated.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Ha!”</span> he snorted. <span class="tei tei-q">“One example
among many. Self is not alone.
Our culture is such that the genius is
smothered. The great contributors to
our society are ignored, or worse.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford was feeling his
way. Now he said mildly, <span class="tei tei-q">“I was under
the impression that American
free enterprise gave the individual
the best opportunity to prove himself
and that if he had it on the ball
he'd get to the top.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Were you really?”</span> the Professor
said snappishly. <span class="tei tei-q">“And did you know
that Edison died a comparatively poor
man with an estate somewhere in the
vicinity of a hundred thousand dollars?
An amount that might sound
like a good deal to you or me,
but, when you consider his contributions,
shockingly little. Did you know
that Eli Whitney realized little, if
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page030">[pg 030]</span><a name="Pg030" id="Pg030" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
anything, from the cotton gin? Or
that McCormick didn't invent the
reaper but gained it in a dubious
court victory? Or take Robert Goddard,
one of the best examples of
modern times. He developed the basics
of rocket technology—gyroscopic
stabilizers, fuel pumps, self-cooling
motors, landing devices. He died in
1945 leaving behind twenty-two volumes
of records that proved priceless.
What did he get out of his researches?
Nothing. It was fifteen years later
that his widow won her suit against
the government for patent infringements!”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="text-align: center; margin-bottom: 1.00em">
</p><div class="tei tei-figure" style="width: 60%; text-align: center"><img src="images/p30.png" width="700" height="531" alt="Illustration." /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry held up a hand. <span class="tei tei-q">“Really,”</span> he
said. <span class="tei tei-q">“My interest is in Ernest Self.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor relaxed. <span class="tei tei-q">“Sorry. I'm
afraid I get carried away. Self, to get
back to your original question, is a
great intuitive scientist. Unfortunately
for him, society being what it is
today, he fits into few grooves. Our
educational system was little more
than an irritation to him and consequently
he holds no degrees. Needless
to say, this interfered with his
gaining employment with the universities
and the large corporations
which dominate our country's research,
not to mention governmental
agencies.</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Ernest Self holds none of the status
labels that count. The fact that he
is a genius means nothing. He is supposedly
qualified no more than to
hold a janitor's position in laboratories
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page031">[pg 031]</span><a name="Pg031" id="Pg031" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
where his inferiors conduct experiments
in fields where he is a
dozenfold more capable than they.
No one is interested in his genius,
they want to know what status labels
are pinned to him. Ernest has no respect
for labels.”</span>
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford figured he was
picking up background and didn't
force a change of subject. <span class="tei tei-q">“Just what
do you mean by intuitive scientist?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“It's a term I have used loosely,”</span>
the Professor admitted. <span class="tei tei-q">“Possibly a
scientist who makes a break-through
in his field, destroying formerly held
positions—in Self's case, without the
math, without the accepted theories to
back him. He finds something that
works, possibly without knowing why
or how and by using unorthodox analytical
techniques. An intuitive scientist,
if I may use the term, is a
thorn in the side of our theoretical
physicists laden down with their burden
of a status label but who are
themselves short of the makings of a
Leonardo, a Newton, a Galileo, or
even a Nicholas Christofilos.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I'm afraid that last name escapes
me,”</span> Larry said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Similar to Self's case and Robert
Goddard's,”</span> Voss said, his voice bitter.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Although his story has a better ending.
Christofilos invented the strong-focusing
principle that made possible
the multi-billion-volt particle accelerators
currently so widely used in
nuclear physics experimentation.
However, he was nothing but a Greek
elevator electrical system engineer
and the supposed experts turned him
down on the grounds that his math
was faulty. It seems that he submitted
the idea in straight-algebra terms instead
of differential equations. He finally
won through after patenting the
discovery and rubbing their noses in
it. Previously, none of the physics
journals would publish his paper—he
didn't have the right status labels to
impress them.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, almost with amusement,
<span class="tei tei-q">“You seem to have quite a phobia
against the status label, as you call it.
However, I don't see how as complicated
a world as ours could get
along without it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor snorted his contempt.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Tell me,”</span> he said, <span class="tei tei-q">“to which
class do you consider yourself to
belong?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford shrugged. <span class="tei tei-q">“I suppose
individuals in my bracket are
usually thought of as being middle-middle
class.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“And you have no feeling of revolt
in having such a label hung on you?
Consider this system for a moment.
You have lower-lower, middle-lower,
and upper-lower; then you have lower-middle,
middle-middle, upper-middle;
then you have lower-upper,
middle-upper, and finally we achieve
to upper-upper class. Now tell me,
when we get to that rarified category,
who do we find? Do we find an Einstein,
a Schweitzer, a Picasso; outstanding
scientists, humanitarians, the
great writers, artists and musicians of
our day? Certainly not. We find ultra-wealthy
playboys and girls, a former
king and his duchess who eke out
their income by accepting fees to attend
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page032">[pg 032]</span><a name="Pg032" id="Pg032" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
parties, the international born
set, bearers of meaningless feudalistic
titles. These are your upper-upper
class!”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry laughed.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor snapped, <span class="tei tei-q">“You think
it funny? Let me give you another
example of our status label culture. I
have a friend whom I have known
since childhood. I would estimate
that Charles has an I.Q. of approximately
90, certainly no more. His
family, however, took such necessary
steps as were needed to get Charles
through public school. No great matter
these days, you'll admit, although
on occasion he needed a bit of tutoring.
On graduation, they recognized
that the really better schools might be
a bit difficult for Charles so he was
entered in a university with a good
name but without—shall we say?—the
highest of scholastic ratings.
Charles plodded along, had some
more tutoring, probably had his thesis
ghosted, and eventually graduated. At
that point an uncle died and left
Charles an indefinite amount to be
used in furthering his education to
any extent he wished to go. Charles,
motivated probably by the desire to
avoid obtaining a job and competing
with his fellow man, managed to
wrangle himself into a medical school
and eventually even graduated. Since
funds were still available, he continued
his studies abroad, largely in
Vienna.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor wound it up. <span class="tei tei-q">“Eventually,
he ran out of schools, or his
uncle's estate ran out—I don't know
which came first. At any rate, my
friend Charles, laden down with status
labels, is today practicing as a psychiatrist
in this fair city of ours.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry stared at him blankly.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor said snappishly, <span class="tei tei-q">“So
any time you feel you need to have
your brains unscrambled, you can go
to his office and expend twenty-five
dollars an hour or so. His reputation
is of the highest.”</span> The Professor
grunted his contempt. <span class="tei tei-q">“He doesn't
know the difference between an aspirin
tablet and a Rorschach test.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford stirred in his chair.
<span class="tei tei-q">“We seem to have gotten far off the
subject. What has this got to do with
Self?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor seemed angry. <span class="tei tei-q">“I repeat,
I'm afraid I get carried away on
this subject. I'm in revolt against a
culture based on the status label. It
eliminates the need to judge a man
on his merits. To judge a person by
the clothes he wears, the amount of
money he possesses, the car he drives,
the neighborhood in which he lives,
the society he keeps, or even his ancestry,
is out of the question in a vital,
growing society. You wind up with
nonentities as the leaders of your nation.
In these days, we can't afford it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He smiled suddenly, rather elfishly,
at the security agent. <span class="tei tei-q">“But admittedly,
this deals with Self only as one of
many victims of a culture based on
status labels. Just what is it you
wanted to know about Ernest?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“When you knew him, evidently
he was working on rocket fuels. Have
you any idea whether he later developed
a method of producing perfect
counterfeit?”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page033">[pg 033]</span><a name="Pg033" id="Pg033" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Ernest Self?
Surely you are jesting.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said unhappily, <span class="tei tei-q">“Then here's
another question. Have you ever heard
him mention belonging to a movement,
or, I think, he might word it
<span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">The Movement</span></span>.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Movement?”</span> the Professor said
emptily.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Evidently a revolutionary group
interested in the overthrow of the
government.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Good heavens,”</span> the Professor said.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Just a moment, Mr. Woolford. You
interrupted me just as I was having
my second cup of coffee. Do you
mind if I—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Certainly not,”</span> Woolford shook
his head.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I simply can't get along until after
my third cup,”</span> the Professor said.
<span class="tei tei-q">“You just wait a moment and I'll
bring the pot in here.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He left Larry to sit in the combined
study and living room while he
shuffled off in his slippers to the
kitchen. Larry Woolford decided that
in his school days he'd had some far
out professors himself, but it would
really be something to study under
this one. Not that the old boy didn't
have some points, of course. Almost
all nonconformists base their particular
peeves on some actuality, but in
this case, what was the percentage?
How could you buck the system?
Particularly when, largely, it worked.
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor returned with an
old-fashioned coffeepot, two cups,
and sugar and cream on a tray. He put
them on a side table and said to Larry,
<span class="tei tei-q">“You'll join me? How do you take
it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry still had the slightest of
hang-overs from his solitary drinking
of the night before. <span class="tei tei-q">“Thanks. Make
it black,”</span> he said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor poured, served, then
did up a cup for himself. He sat back
in his chair and said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Now, where
were we? Something about a revolutionary
group. What has that to do
with counterfeiting?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry sipped the strong coffee. <span class="tei tei-q">“It
seems there might be a connection.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor shook his head. <span class="tei tei-q">“It's
hard to imagine Ernest Self being
connected with a criminal pursuit.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said carefully, <span class="tei tei-q">“Susan seemed
to be of the opinion that you knew
about a large amount of counterfeit
currency that this Movement had on
hand and that you were in favor of
spending it upon chorus girls.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor gaped at him.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry chuckled uncomfortably.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Professor Voss said finally, his
voice very even, <span class="tei tei-q">“My dear sir, I am
afraid that I evidently can be of little
assistance to you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Admittedly, it doesn't seem to
make much sense.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Susan—you mean that little sixteen
year old?—said <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">I</span></em> was in favor of
spending counterfeit money on chorus
girls?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said unhappily, <span class="tei tei-q">“She used the
term <span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">the Professor</span></span>.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“And why did you assume that the
title must necessarily allude to me?
Even if any of the rest of the fantastic
story was true.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“In my profession, Professor
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page034">[pg 034]</span><a name="Pg034" id="Pg034" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
Voss, we track down every
possible clue. Thus far, you are the
only professor of whom we know
who was connected with Ernest Self.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Voss said stiffly, <span class="tei tei-q">“I can only say, sir,
that in my estimation Mr. Self is a
man of the highest integrity. And, in
addition, that I have never spent a
penny on a chorus girl in my life and
have no intention of beginning, counterfeit
or otherwise.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford decided that he
wasn't doing too well and that he'd
need more ammunition if he was going
to return to this particular attack.
He was surprised that the old boy
hadn't already ordered him from the
house.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He finished the coffee preparatory
to coming to his feet. <span class="tei tei-q">“Then you
think it's out of the question, Ernest
Self belonging to a revolutionary organization?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor protested. <span class="tei tei-q">“I didn't
say that at all. Mr. Self is a man of
ideals. I can well see him belonging
to such an organization.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford decided he'd better
hang on for at least a few more
words. <span class="tei tei-q">“You don't seem to think,
yourself, that a subversive organization
is undesirable in this country.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor's voice was reasonable.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Isn't that according to what it
means to subvert?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“You know what I mean,”</span> Woolford
said in irritation. <span class="tei tei-q">“I don't usually
think of revolutionists, even when
they call themselves simply members
of a <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">movement</span></em>, as exactly idealists.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Then you're wrong,”</span> the Professor
said definitely, pouring himself another
cup of coffee. <span class="tei tei-q">“History bears out
that almost invariably revolutionists
are men of idealism. The fact that
they might be either right or wrong in
their revolutionary program is beside
the point.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford began to say, <span class="tei tei-q">“Are
you sure that you aren't interested in
this <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">move—</span></em>”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
But it was then that the knockout
drops hit him.
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He came out of the fog feeling
nausea and with his head splitting.
He groaned and opened one eye experimentally.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve Hackett, far away, said, <span class="tei tei-q">“He's
snapping out of it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry groaned again, opened the
other eye and attempted to focus.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“What happened?”</span> he muttered.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Now that's an original question,”</span>
Steve said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford struggled up into a
sitting position. He'd been stretched
out on a couch in the Professor's combined
living room and study.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve Hackett, his hands on his
hips, was looking down at him sarcastically.
There were two or three others,
one of whom Larry vaguely remembered
as being a Secret Service
colleague of Steve's, going about and
in and out of the room.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, his fingers pressing into
his forehead, <span class="tei tei-q">“My head's killing me.
Damn it, what's going on?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve said sarcastically, <span class="tei tei-q">“You've
been slipped a mickey, my cloak and
dagger friend, and the bird has flown.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“You mean the Professor? He's a
bird all right.”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page035">[pg 035]</span><a name="Pg035" id="Pg035" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Humor we get, yet,”</span> Hackett said,
his ugly face scowling. <span class="tei tei-q">“Listen, I
thought you people had pulled out of
this case.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry sat up and swung his two feet
around to the floor. <span class="tei tei-q">“So did I,”</span> he
moaned, <span class="tei tei-q">“but there were two or three
things that bothered me and I thought
I'd tidy them up before leaving.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“You tidied them up all right,”</span>
Steve grumbled. <span class="tei tei-q">“This Professor Voss
was practically the only lead I've been
able to discover. An old friend of
Self's. And you allowed him to get
away before we even got here.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
One of Hackett's men came up and
said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Not a sign of him, Steve. He
evidently burned a few papers,
packed a suitcase, and took off. His
things look suspiciously as though he
was ready to go into hiding at a moment's
notice.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve growled to him, <span class="tei tei-q">“Give the
place the works. He's probably left
some clues around that'll give us a
line.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The other went off and Steve Hackett
sat down in one of the leather
chairs and glowered at Larry Woolford.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Listen,”</span> he said, <span class="tei tei-q">“what did you
people want with Susan Self?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry shook his head for clarity and
looked at him. <span class="tei tei-q">“Susan? What are you
talking about? You don't have any
aspirin, do you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“No. What'd you mean, what am I
talking about? You called Betsy
Hughes and then sent a couple of
men over to pick the Self kid up.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Who's Betsy Hughes?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve shook his head. <span class="tei tei-q">“I don't
know what kind of knockout drops
the old boy gave you, but they sure
worked. Betsy's the operative we had
minding Susan Self over in the
Greater Washington Hilton. About
an hour ago you got her on the phone,
said your department wanted to question
Susan, and that you were sending
two men over to pick her up. The two
men turned up with an order from
you, and took the girl.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry stared at him. Finally he said,
<span class="tei tei-q">“What time is it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“About two o'clock.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“I came into this house
in the morning, talked to the Professor
for about half an hour and then
was silly enough to let him give me
some loaded coffee. He was such a
weird old buzzard that it never occurred
to me he might be dangerous.
At any rate, I've been unconscious for
several hours. I <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">couldn't've</span></em> called this
Betsy Hughes operative of yours.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
It was Steve Hackett's turn to
stare.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“You mean your department doesn't
have Susan Self?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Not so far as I know. The Boss told
me yesterday that we were pulling
out, that it was all in your hands.
What would we want with Susan?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Oh, great,”</span> Steve snarled. <span class="tei tei-q">“There
goes our last contact. Ernest Self,
Professor Voss, and now Susan Self;
they've all disappeared.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Look,”</span> Larry said unhappily, <span class="tei tei-q">“let's
get me some aspirin and then let's go
and see my chief. I have a sneaking
suspicion our department is back on
this case.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve snorted sarcastically. <span class="tei tei-q">“If you
can foul things up this well when
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page036">[pg 036]</span><a name="Pg036" id="Pg036" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
you're off the case, God only knows
what you'll accomplish using your
facilities on an all-out basis.”</span>
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss said slowly, <span class="tei tei-q">“Whoever
we are working against evidently
isn't short of resources. Abducting
that young lady was no simple matter.”</span>
The career diplomat worked his
lips in and out, in all but a pout.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford, who'd taken time
out to go home, shower, change
clothes and medicate himself out of
his dope induced hangover, sat across
the desk from him, flanked by Steve
Hackett.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss said sourly, <span class="tei tei-q">“It would
seem that I was in error. That our
young Susan Self was not spouting
fantasy. There evidently actually is an
underground movement interested in
changing our institutions.”</span> He stirred
in his chair and his scowl went deeper.
<span class="tei tei-q">“And evidently working on a basis
never conceived of by subversive
organizations of the past. The fact
that they have successfully remained
secret even to this department is the
prime indication that they are attempting
to make their revolutionary
changes in a unique manner.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“The trouble is, we
don't even know what it is they
want.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“However,”</span> his superior said slowly,
<span class="tei tei-q">“we are beginning to get inklings.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve Hackett said, <span class="tei tei-q">“What inklings,
sir? This sort of thing might be routine
for you people, but my field is
counterfeit. I, frankly, don't know
what it's all about.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss looked at him. <span class="tei tei-q">“We have
a clue or two, Mr. Hackett. For one
thing, we know that this Movement
of ours has no affiliations with the
Soviet Complex, nor, so far as we
know, any foreign element whatsoever.
If we take Miss Self's word, it is
strictly an American phenomenon.
From what little we know of Ernest
Self and Peter Voss they might be in
revolt against some of our current institutions
but there is no reason to
believe them, ah, <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">un-American</span></em> in the
usually accepted sense of the word.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The two younger men looked at
him as though he was joking.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He shook his heavy head negatively.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Actually, what do we have on
this so-called Movement thus far?
Aside from treating Lawrence, here,
to some knockout drops—and let us
remember that Lawrence was present
in the Professor's home without a
warrant—all we have is the suspicion
that they have manufactured a quantity
of counterfeit.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“A <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">quantity</span></em> is right,”</span> Steve Hackett
blurted. <span class="tei tei-q">“If we're to accept what that
Self kid told us, they have a few billion
dollars worth of perfect bills on
hand.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“A strange amount for counterfeiters
to produce,”</span> The Boss said uncomfortably.
<span class="tei tei-q">“That is what puzzles
me. Any revolutionary movement
needs funds. Remember Stalin as a
young man? He used to be in charge
of the Bolshevik gang which robbed
banks to raise funds for their underground
newspapers. But a billion dollars?
What in the world can they expect
to need that amount for?”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page037">[pg 037]</span><a name="Pg037" id="Pg037" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Sir, you keep talking as
though these characters were a bunch
of idealistic do-gooders bleeding for
the sake of the country. Actually,
from what we know, they're nothing
but a bunch of revolutionists.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss was shaking his head.
<span class="tei tei-q">“You're not thinking clearly, Lawrence.
Revolution, <span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">per se</span></span>, is not illegal
in the United States. Our Constitution
was probably the first document
of its kind which allowed for
its own amendment. The men who
wrote it provided for changing it
either slightly or <span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">in toto</span></span>. Whenever
the majority of the American people
decide completely to abandon the
Constitution and govern themselves
by new laws, they have the right to do
it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Then what's the whole purpose of
this department, sir?”</span> Larry argued.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Why've we been formed to combat
foreign and domestic subversion?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
His chief sighed. <span class="tei tei-q">“You shouldn't
have to ask that, Lawrence. The present
government cannot oppose the
will of the majority if it votes, by
constitutional methods, to make any
changes it wishes. But we can, and
do, unmask the activities of anyone
trying to overthrow the government
by force and violence. Any culture
protects itself against that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“What are we getting at, sir?”</span>
Steve Hackett said, impatiently.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss shrugged. <span class="tei tei-q">“I'm trying to
point out that so far as my department
is concerned, thus far we have
little against this Movement. Secret
Service may have, what with this
wholesale counterfeiting, even though
thus far they seem to have made no
attempt to pass the currency they
have allegedly manufactured. We
wouldn't even know of it, weren't it
for our young Susan pilfering an
amount.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, desperately, <span class="tei tei-q">“Sir, you
just pointed out a few minutes ago
that this Movement is a secret organization
trying to make changes in
some unique manner. In short, they
don't figure on using the ballot to put
over their revolution. That makes
them as illegal as the Commies, doesn't
it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss said, <span class="tei tei-q">“That's the difficulty;
we don't know what they want.
From your conversations with Susan
Self and especially Professor Voss,
evidently they think the country
needs some basic changes. What these
changes are, and how they expect to
accomplish them, we don't know. Unless
a foreign government is involved,
or unless they plan to alter our institutions
by violence, this department
just doesn't have much jurisdiction.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve Hackett snorted, <span class="tei tei-q">“Secret Service
does! If those bales of money the
Self kid told us about are ever put
into circulation, there'll be hell to
pay.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss sighed. <span class="tei tei-q">“Well,”</span> he said,
<span class="tei tei-q">“Lawrence can continue on the assignment.
If it develops in such manner
as to indicate that this department
is justified in further investigation,
we'll put more men on it. Meanwhile,
it is obviously more a Secret
Service matter. I am sorry to intrude
upon your vacation again, Lawrence.”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page038">[pg 038]</span><a name="Pg038" id="Pg038" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
On awakening in the morning, Larry
Woolford stared glumly at the
ceiling for long moments before
dragging himself from bed. This was,
he decided, the strangest assignment
he'd ever been on. In his day he'd
trekked through South America,
Common Europe, a dozen African
states, and even areas of Southern
Asia, combatting Commie pressures
here, fellow-traveler organizations
there, disrupting plots hatched in the
Soviet Complex in the other place.
On his home grounds in the United
States he'd covered everything from
out and out Soviet espionage, to exposing
Communist activities of complexions
from the faintest of pinks to
the rosiest Trotskyite red. But, he decided
he'd never expected to wind up
after a bunch of weirds whose sole
actionable activity to date seemed to
be the counterfeiting of a fantastic
amount of legal tender which thus far
they were making no attempt to pass.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He got out of bed and went
through the rituals of showering,
shaving and clothing, of coffee, sausage,
and eggs, toast and more
coffee.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
What amazed Larry Woolford was
the shrug-it-off manner in which the
Boss seemed to accept this underground
Movement and its admitted
subversive goals—whatever they
were. Carry the Boss' reasoning to its
ultimate and subversion was perfectly
all right, just as it didn't involve
force and violence. If he was in his
chief's position, he would have
thrown the full resources of the department
into tracking down these
crackpots. As it was, he, Larry Woolford
was the only operative on the
job.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He needed a new angle on which
to work. Steve Hackett was undoubtedly
handling the tracing down of
the counterfeit with all the resources
of the Secret Service. Possibly there
was some way of detecting the source
of the paper they'd used.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He finished his final cup of coffee
in the living room and took up the
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page039">[pg 039]</span><a name="Pg039" id="Pg039" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
pipe he was currently breaking in.
He loaded it automatically from a
humidor and lit it with his pocket
lighter. Three drags, and he tossed it
back to the table, fumbled in a drawer
and located a pack of cigarettes.
Possibly his status group was currently
smoking British briars in public,
but, let's face it, he hated the confounded
things.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He sat down before the phone and
dialed the offices of the <span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">Sun-Post</span></span> and
eventually got Sam Sokolski who this
time beat him to the punch.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Sam said, <span class="tei tei-q">“You shouldn't drink
alone. Listen, Larry, why don't you
get in touch with Alcoholics Anonymous.
It's a great outfit.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“You ought to know,”</span> Larry growled.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Look, Sam, as science columnist for
that rag you work for you probably
come in touch with a lot of eggheads.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Laddy-buck, you have said it,”</span>
Sam said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Fine. Now look, what I want to
know is have you ever heard—even
the slightest of rumors—about an organization
called the Movement?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“What'd'ya mean, slightest of rumors?
Half the weirds I run into are
interested in the outfit. Get two or
three intellectuals, scientists, technicians,
or what have you, together and
they start knocking themselves out on
the pros and cons of the Movement.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford stared at him. <span class="tei tei-q">“Are
you kidding, Sam?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The other was mystified. <span class="tei tei-q">“Why
should I kid you? As a matter of fact,
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page040">[pg 040]</span><a name="Pg040" id="Pg040" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
I was thinking of doing a column one
of these days on Voss and this Movement
of his.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“<em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">Voss</span></em> and this movement of his!”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Sure,”</span> Sam said, <span class="tei tei-q">“he's the top
leader.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Oh, great,”</span> Larry growled. <span class="tei tei-q">“Look,
Sam, eventually there is probably a
story in this for you. Right now,
though, we're trying to keep the lid on
it. Could you brief me a little on this
Movement? What are they trying to
put over?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I seem to spend half my time
briefing you in information any semi-moron
ought to be up on,”</span> Sam said
nastily. <span class="tei tei-q">“However, <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">briefly</span></em>, they're in
revolt against social-label judgments.
They think it's fouling up the country
and that eventually it'll result in
the Russkies passing us in all the
fields that really count.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I keep running into this term,”</span>
Larry complained. <span class="tei tei-q">“What do you
mean, social-label judgments, and
how can they possibly louse up the
country?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Sam said, <span class="tei tei-q">“I was present a month or
so ago when Voss gave an informal
lecture to a group of twenty or so.
Here's one of the examples he used.</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Everybody today wants to be rated
on a (1) personal, or, (2) social-label
basis, depending on which basis
is to his greatest advantage. The Negro
who is a no-good, lazy, obnoxious
person demands to be accepted because
Negroes should not be discriminated
against. The highly competent,
hard working, honest and productive
Negro wants to be accepted because
he is hard-working, honest and productive—and
should be so accepted.</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“See what I mean? This social-label
system is intended to relieve the
individual of the necessity of judging,
and the consequences of being
judged. If you have poor judgment,
and are forced to rely on your own
judgment, you're almost sure to go
under. So persons of poor judgment
support our social-label system. If
you're a louse, and are correctly
judged as being a louse, you'd prefer
that the social dictum <span class="tei tei-q">‘Human beings
are never lice’</span> should apply.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“What in the devil's
this got to do with the race between
this country and the Russkies?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Sam said patiently, <span class="tei tei-q">“Voss and the
Movement he leads contend that a
social-label system winds up with incompetents
running the country in all
fields. Often incompetent scientists
are in charge of our research; incompetent
doctors, in charge of our
health; incompetent politicians run
our government; incompetent teachers,
laden with social-labels, teach our
youth. Our young people are going to
college to secure a degree, not an
education. It's the label that counts,
not the reality.</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Voss contends that it's getting
progressively worse. That we're sinking
into an equivalent of a ritual-taboo,
tribal social-like situation. This
is the system the low-level human being
wants, yearns for and seeks. A
situation in which no one's judgment
is of any use. Then <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">his</span></em> lack of judgment
is no handicap.</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“According to members of the
Movement, today the tribesman type
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page041">[pg 041]</span><a name="Pg041" id="Pg041" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
is seeking to reduce civilization back
to ritual-taboo tribalism wherein no
one man's judgment is of any value.
The union wants advancement based
on seniority, not on ability and judgment.
The persons with whom you
associate socially judge you by the
amount of money you possess, the
family from which you come, the degrees
you hold, by social-labels—not
by your proven abilities. Down with
judgment! is the cry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“It sounds awfully weird to me,”</span>
Larry grumbled in deprecation.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Sam shrugged. <span class="tei tei-q">“There's a lot of
sense in it. What the Movement
wants is to develop a socio-economic
system in which judgment produces
a maximum advantage.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“What gets me is that
you talk as though half the country
was all caught up in debating this
Movement. But I haven't even heard
of it, neither has my department
chief, nor any of my colleagues, so far
as I know. Why isn't anything about
it in the papers or on the TriD?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Sam said mildly, <span class="tei tei-q">“As a matter of
fact, I took in Mort Lenny's show the
other night and he made some cracks
about it. But it's not the sort of thing
that's even meant to become popular
with the man in the street. To put it
bluntly, Voss and his people aren't
particularly keen about the present
conception of the democratic ideal.
According to him, true democracy
can only be exercised by peers and
society today isn't composed of peers.
If you have one hundred people,
twenty of them competent, intelligent
persons, eighty of them untrained,
incompetent and less than intelligent,
then it's ridiculous to have
the eighty dictate to the twenty.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry looked accusingly at his long-time
friend. <span class="tei tei-q">“You know, Sam, you
sound as though you approve of all
this.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Sam said patiently, <span class="tei tei-q">“I listen to it
all, Larry my boy. I think Voss makes
a lot of sense. There's only one drawback.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“And that is?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“How's he going to put it over?
This social-label system the Movement
complains about was bad
enough ten years ago. But look how
much worse it is today. It's a progressive
thing. And, remember, it's to the
benefit of the incompetent. Since the
incompetent predominates, you're going
to have a hard time starting up a
system based on judgment and ability.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry thought about it for a moment.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Sam said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Look, I'm working, Larry.
Was there anything else?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“You wouldn't know
where I could get hold of Voss,
would you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“At his home, I imagine, or at the
University.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“He's disappeared. We're looking
for him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Sam laughed. <span class="tei tei-q">“Gone underground,
eh? The old boy is getting romantic.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Does he have any particular
friends who might be putting him
up?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Sam thought about it. <span class="tei tei-q">“There's
Frank Nostrand. You know, that rocket
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page042">[pg 042]</span><a name="Pg042" id="Pg042" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
expert who was fired when he got
in the big hassle with Senator McCord.”</span>
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
When Sam Sokolski had flicked off,
Larry stared at the vacant phone
screen for a long moment, assimilating
what the other had told him. He
was astonished that an organization
such as the Movement could have
spread to the extent it evidently had
through the country's intellectual circles,
through the scientifically and
technically trained, without his department
being keenly aware of it.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="text-align: center; margin-bottom: 1.00em">
</p><div class="tei tei-figure" style="width: 60%; text-align: center"><img src="images/p42.png" width="700" height="430" alt="Illustration." /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
One result, he decided glumly, of
labeling everything contrary to the
<span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">status quo</span></span> as <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">weird</span></em> and dismissing it
with contempt. Admittedly, that
would have been his own reaction
only a week ago.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Suppose that he'd been at a cocktail
party, and had drifted up to a group
who were arguing about social-label
judgments and the need to develop a
<em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">movement</span></em> to change society's use of
them. The discussion would have
gone in one ear, out the other, and he
would have muttered inwardly,
<span class="tei tei-q">“Weirds,”</span> and have drifted on to get
himself another vodka martini.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry snorted and dialed the Department
of Records. He'd never
heard of Frank Nostrand before, so he
got Information.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The bright young thing who answered
seemed to have a harried expression
untypical of Records employees.
Larry said to her, <span class="tei tei-q">“I'd like the
brief on a Mr. Frank Nostrand who is
evidently an expert on rockets. The
only other thing I know about him is
that he recently got in the news as the
result of a controversy with Senator
McCord.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Just a moment, sir,”</span> the bright
young thing said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She touched buttons and reached
into a delivery chute. When her eyes
came up to meet his again, they were
more than ever harried. They were
absolutely confused.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Mr. Franklin Howard Nostrand,”</span>
she said, <span class="tei tei-q">“currently employed by
Madison Air as a rocket research technician.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“That must be him,”</span> Larry said.
<span class="tei tei-q">“I'm in a hurry, Miss. What's his
background?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Her eyes rounded. <span class="tei tei-q">“It says ... it
says he's an Archbishop of the Anglican
Church.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford looked at her.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She looked back, pleadingly.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry scowled and said, <span class="tei tei-q">“His university
degrees, please.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Her eyes darted to the report and
she swallowed. <span class="tei tei-q">“A bachelor in Home
Economics, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Look here, Miss, how could a
Home Economics degree result in his
becoming either an Archbishop or a
rocket technician?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I'm sorry, sir. That's what it says.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry was fuming but there was no
point in taking it out on this junior
employee of the Department of Records.
He snapped, <span class="tei tei-q">“Just give me his
address, please.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She said agonizingly, <span class="tei tei-q">“Sir, it says,
Lhasa, Tibet.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
A red light flicked at the side of
his phone and he said to her, <span class="tei tei-q">“I'll call
you back. I'm getting a priority call.”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page043">[pg 043]</span><a name="Pg043" id="Pg043" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He flicked her off, and flicked the
incoming call in. It was LaVerne Polk.
She seemed to be on the harried side,
too.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Larry,”</span> she said, <span class="tei tei-q">“you better get
over here right away.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“What's up, LaVerne?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“This Movement,”</span> she said, <span class="tei tei-q">“it
seems to have started moving! The
Boss says to get over here soonest.”</span>
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The top of his car was retracted.
Larry Woolford slammed down the
walk of his auto-bungalow and vaulted
over the side and into the seat. He
banged the start button, dropped the
lift lever, depressed the thrust pedal
and took off at maximum acceleration.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He took the police level for maximum
speed and was in downtown
Greater Washington in flat minutes.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
So the Movement had started moving.
That could mean almost anything.
It was just enough to keep him
stewing until he got to the Boss and
found out what was going on.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He turned his car over to a parker
and made his way to the entrance
utilized by the second-grade department
officials. In another year, or at
most two, he told himself all over
again, he'd be using that other door.
He had an intuitive feeling that if he
licked this current assignment it'd be
the opening wedge he needed and
he'd wind up in a status bracket
unique for his age.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
LaVerne looked up when he hurried
into her anteroom. She evidently
had two or three calls going on at
once, taking orders from one phone,
giving them in another. Something
was obviously erupting. She didn't
speak to him, merely nodded her head
at the inner office.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
In the Boss' office were six or eight
others besides Larry's superior. Their
expressions and attitudes ran from
bewilderment to shock. They weren't
the men you'd expect to have such reactions.
At least not those that Larry
Woolford recognized. Three of them,
Ben Ruthenberg, Bill Fraina and
Dave Moskowitz were F.B.I. men
with whom Larry had worked on occasion.
One of the others he recognized
as being a supervisor with the
C.I.A. Walt Foster, Larry's rival in the
Boss' affections, was also present.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss growled at him, <span class="tei tei-q">“Where
in the heavens have you been, Lawrence?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Following our leads on this so-called
Movement, sir,”</span> Larry told him.
<span class="tei tei-q">“What's going on?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Ruthenberg, the Department of
Justice man, grunted sour amusement.
<span class="tei tei-q">“So-called Movement, isn't exactly
the correct phrase. It's a Movement,
all right.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Please dial Records
and get your dossier, Lawrence. That'll
be the quickest way to bring you
up on developments.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Mystified, but already with a growing
premonition, Larry dialed Records.
Knowing his own classification
code, he had no need of Information
this time. He got the hundred-word
brief and stared at it as it filled the
screen. The only items really correct
were his name and present occupation.
Otherwise his education was
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page044">[pg 044]</span><a name="Pg044" id="Pg044" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
listed as grammar school only. His
military career had him ending the
war as a General of the Armies, and
his criminal career record included
four years on Alcatraz for molesting
small children.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Blankly, he faded the brief and
dialed his full dossier. It failed to
duplicate the brief, but that was no
advantage. This time he had an M.D.
degree from Johns Hopkins, but his
military career listed him as a dishonorable
discharge from the navy where
he'd served in the steward department.
His criminal record was happily
nil, but his religion was listed as
Holy Roller. Political affiliations had
him down as a member of the Dixiecrats.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The others were looking at him,
most of them blankly, although there
were grins on the faces of Moskowitz
and the C.I.A. man.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Moskowitz said, <span class="tei tei-q">“With a name
like mine, yet, they have me a Bishop
of the Orthodox Greek Catholic
Church.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“What's it all about?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Ruthenberg said unhappily, <span class="tei tei-q">“It
started early this morning. We don't
know exactly when as yet.”</span> Which
didn't seem to answer the question.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“I don't get it. Obviously,
the Records department is fouled
up in some manner. How, and why?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“How, we know,”</span> the Boss rumbled
disgustedly. <span class="tei tei-q">“Why is another matter.
You've spent more time than anyone
else on this assignment, Lawrence.
Perhaps you can tell us.”</span> He grabbed
up a pipe from his desk, tried to light
it noisily, noticed finally that it held
no tobacco and threw it to the desk
again. <span class="tei tei-q">“Evidently, a large group of
these Movement individuals either already
worked in Records or wriggled
themselves into key positions in the
technical end of the department.
Now they've sabotaged the files.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“We've caught most of them already,”</span>
one of the F.B.I. men growled,
<span class="tei tei-q">“but damn little good that does us at
this point.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The C.I.A. supervisor made a gesture
indicating that he gave it all up.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Not only here but in Chicago and
San Francisco as well. All at once.
Evidently perfectly rehearsed. Personnel
records from coast to coast are
bollixed. Why?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said slowly, <span class="tei tei-q">“I think I know
that now. Yesterday, I wouldn't have
but I've been picking up odds and
ends.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
They all looked at him.
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry sat down and ran a hand back
through his hair. <span class="tei tei-q">“The general idea is
to change the country's reliance on
social-label judgments.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“On <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">what</span></em>,”</span> the Boss barked.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“On one person judging another
according to social-labels. Voss and
the others—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Who did you say?”</span> Ruthenberg
snapped.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Voss. Professor Peter Voss from
the University over in Baltimore section.
He's the ring leader.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Ruthenberg snapped to Fraina,
<span class="tei tei-q">“Get on the phone and send out a
pick-up order for him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Fraina was on his feet. <span class="tei tei-q">“What
charge, Ben?”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page045">[pg 045]</span><a name="Pg045" id="Pg045" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Ben Ruthenberg snorted. <span class="tei tei-q">“Rape,
or something. Get moving, we'll figure
out a charge later. The guy's a
fruitcake.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said wearily, <span class="tei tei-q">“He's evidently
gone into hiding. I've been trying to
locate him. He managed to slip me
some knockout drops and got away
yesterday.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss looked at him in disgust.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Ruthenberg said evenly, <span class="tei tei-q">“We've
had men go into hiding before. Get
going, Fraina.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Fraina left the office and the others
looked back to Larry.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss said, <span class="tei tei-q">“About this social-label
nonsense—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“They think the country
is going to pot because of it. People
hold high office or places of responsibility
not because of superior intelligence,
or even acquired skill, but because
of the social-labels they've accumulated,
and these can be based on
something as flimsy—from the Movement's
viewpoint—as who your
grandparents were, what school you
attended, how much seniority you
have on the job, what part of town
you live in, or what tailor cuts your
clothes.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Their expressions ran from scowls
and frowns to complete puzzlement.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Walt Foster grumbled, <span class="tei tei-q">“What's all
this got to do with sabotaging the
country's Records tapes?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry shrugged. <span class="tei tei-q">“I don't have the
complete picture, but one thing is
sure. It's going to be harder for a
while to base your opinions on a
quick hundred-word brief on a man.
Yesterday, an employer, considering
hiring somebody, could dial the man's
dossier, check it, and form his opinions
by the status labels the would-be
employee could produce. Today, he's
damn well going to have to exercise
his own judgment.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
LaVerne's face lit up the screen on
the Boss' desk and she said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Those
two members of the Movement who
were picked up in Alexandria are
here, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Send them in,”</span> the Boss rumbled.
He looked at Larry. <span class="tei tei-q">“The F.B.I. managed
to arrest almost everyone directly
involved in the sabotage.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The two prisoners seemed more
amused than otherwise. They were
young men, in their early thirties—well
dressed and obviously intelligent.
The Boss had them seated side
by side and glared at them for a long
moment before speaking. Larry and
the others took chairs in various parts
of the room and added their own
stares to the barrage.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Your situation is
an unhappy one, gentlemen.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
One of the two shrugged.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss said, <span class="tei tei-q">“You can, ah, hedge
your bets, by co-operating with us. It
might make the difference between a
year or two in prison—and life.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
One of them grinned and then
yawned. <span class="tei tei-q">“I doubt it,”</span> he said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss tried a slightly different
tack. <span class="tei tei-q">“You have no reason to maintain
a feeling of obligation to Voss
and the others. You have obviously
been abandoned. Had they any feeling
for you there would have been
more efficacious arrangements for
your escape.”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page046">[pg 046]</span><a name="Pg046" id="Pg046" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The more articulate of the two
shrugged again. <span class="tei tei-q">“We were expendable,”</span>
he said. <span class="tei tei-q">“However, it won't be
long before we're free again.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“You think so?”</span> Ruthenberg
grunted.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The revolutionist looked at him.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Yes, I do,”</span> he said. <span class="tei tei-q">“Six months from
now and we'll be heroes since by that
time the Movement will have been a
success.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss snorted. <span class="tei tei-q">“Just because
you deranged the Records? Why
that's but temporary.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Not so temporary as you think,”</span>
the technician replied. <span class="tei tei-q">“This country
has allowed itself to get deeply
enmeshed in punch-card and tape records.
Oh, it made sense enough.
With the population we have, and the
endless files that result from our
ultra-complicated society, it was simply
a matter finally of developing a
standardized system of records for the
nation as a whole. Now, for all practical
purposes, <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">all</span></em> of our records these
days are kept with the Department of
Records, confidential as well as public
records. Why should a university,
for instance, keep literally tons of
files, with all the expense and space
and time involved, when it can merely
file the same records with the governmental
department and have them
safe and easily available at any time?
Now, the Movement has completely
and irrevocably destroyed almost all
files that deal with the social-labels to
which we object. An excellent first
step, in forcing our country back into
judgment based on ability and intelligence.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“First step!”</span> Larry blurted.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The two prisoners looked at him.
<span class="tei tei-q">“That's right,”</span> the quieter of the two
said. <span class="tei tei-q">“This is just the first step.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Don't kid yourselves,”</span> Ben Ruthenberg
snapped at them. <span class="tei tei-q">“It's also the
last!”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The two members of the Movement
grinned at him.
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
When the others had gone, the
Boss looked at Larry Woolford. He
said sourly, <span class="tei tei-q">“When this department
was being formed, I doubt anyone
had in mind this particular type of
subversion, Lawrence.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry grunted. <span class="tei tei-q">“Give me a good
old-fashioned Commie, any time.
Look, sir, what are the Department of
Justice boys going to do with those
prisoners?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Hold them on any of various
charges. We've conflicted with the
F.B.I. in the past on overlapping
jurisdiction, but thank heavens for
them now. Their manpower is needed.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry leaned forward. <span class="tei tei-q">“Sir, we
ought to take all members of the
Movement we've already arrested, feed
them a dose of Scop-Serum, and
pressure them to open up on the organization's
operations.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
His superior looked at him, waiting
for him to continue.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said urgently, <span class="tei tei-q">“Those two we
just had in here thought the whole
thing was a big joke. The first step,
they called it. Sir, there's something
considerably bigger than this cooking.
Uncle Sam might pride himself
on the personal liberties guaranteed
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page047">[pg 047]</span><a name="Pg047" id="Pg047" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
by this country, but unless we break
this organization, and do it fast,
there's going to be trouble that will
make this fouling of the records look
like the minor matter those two jokers
seemed to think it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss thought about that. He
said slowly, <span class="tei tei-q">“Lawrence, the Supreme
Court ruled against the use of Scop-Serum.
Not that it is over efficient,
anyway. Largely, these so-called truth
serums don't accomplish much more
than to lower resistance, slacken natural
inhibitions, weaken the will.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Sure,”</span> Larry said. <span class="tei tei-q">“But give a man
a good dose of Scop-Serum and he'd
betray his own mother. Not because
he's helpless to tell a lie, but because
under the influence of the drug he
figures it just isn't important enough
to bother about. Sir, Supreme Court
or not, I think those two ought to be
given Scop-Serum along with all other
Movement members we've picked
up.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss was shaking his head.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Lawrence, these men are not wide-eyed
radicals picked up in a street
demonstration. They're highly respected
members of our society.
They're educators, scientists, engineers,
technicians. Anything done to
them is going to make headlines.
Those that were actually involved in
the sabotage will have criminal
charges brought against them, but
they're going to get a considerable
amount of publicity, and we're going
to be in no position to alienate any of
their constitutional rights.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry stood up, approached his
chief's desk and leaned over it urgently.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Sir, that's fine, but we've got
to move and move fast. Something's
up and we don't even know what!
Take that counterfeit money. From
Susan Self's description, there's actually
billions of dollars worth of it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Oh, come now, Lawrence. The
child exaggerated. Besides, that's a
problem for Steven Hackett and the
Secret Service, we have enough on
our hands as it is. Forget about the
counterfeit, Lawrence. I think I shall
put you in complete control of field
work on this, to co-operate in liaison
with Ben Ruthenberg and the F.B.I.
So far as we're concerned, the counterfeit
angle belongs to Secret Service,
we're working on subversion,
and until the Civil Liberties Union or
whoever else proves otherwise, we'll
consider this Movement an organization
attempting to subvert the country
by illegal means.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford made a hard decision
quickly. He was shaking his
head. <span class="tei tei-q">“Sir, I'd rather you gave the administrative
end to someone else and
let me continue in the field. I've got
some leads—I think. If I get bogged
down in interdepartmental red tape,
and in paper work here at headquarters,
I'll never get to the heart of this
and I'm laying bets that we either
crack this within days or there are going
to be some awfully big changes
in this country.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss glared at him. <span class="tei tei-q">“You
mean you're refusing this assignment,
Woolford. Confound it, don't you
realize it's a promotion?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry was worriedly dogged. <span class="tei tei-q">“Sir,
I'd rather stay in the field.”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page048">[pg 048]</span><a name="Pg048" id="Pg048" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Very well,”</span> the other snapped disgustedly,
<span class="tei tei-q">“I hope you deliver some
results, Woolford, otherwise I am
afraid I won't feel particularly happy
about your somewhat cavalier rejection
of this opportunity.”</span> He flicked
on the phone and snapped to LaVerne
Polk, <span class="tei tei-q">“Miss Polk, locate Walter
Foster for me. He is to take over our
end of this Movement matter.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
LaVerne said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Yes, sir,”</span> and her
face was gone.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss looked up, still scowling.
<span class="tei tei-q">“What are you waiting for, Woolford?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Yes, sir,”</span> Larry said. It was just
coming home to him now, what he'd
done. There possibly went his yearned
for promotion in the department.
There went his chance of an upgrading
in status. And Walt Foster, of all
people, in his place.
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
At LaVerne's desk, Larry stopped
off long enough to say, <span class="tei tei-q">“Did you ever
assign that secretary to me?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
LaVerne shook her head at him.
<span class="tei tei-q">“She's come and gone, Larry. She sat
around for a couple of days, after seeing
you not even once, and then I
gave her another assignment.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Well, bring her back again, will
you? I want her to do up briefs for
me on all the information we accumulate
on the Movement. It'll be coming
in from all sides now. From the
Press, from those members we've arrested,
from our F.B.I. pals, now that
they're interested, and so forth.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I'll give you Irene Day,”</span> LaVerne
said. <span class="tei tei-q">“Where are you off to
now, Larry?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Probably a wild goose chase,”</span> Larry
growled. <span class="tei tei-q">“Which reminds me. Do
me a favor, LaVerne. Call Personal
Service and find out where Frank
Nostrand is. He's some kind of rocket
technician at Madison Air Laboratories.
I'll be in my office.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Frank Nostrand,”</span> LaVerne said
briskly. <span class="tei tei-q">“Will do, Larry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Back in his own cubicle, Larry
stood for a moment in thought. He
was increasingly aware of the uncomfortable
feeling that time was running
out on them. That things were
coming to a dangerous head.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He stared down at the dozen or
more books and pamphlets that his
never seen secretary had heaped up
for him. Well, he certainly didn't have
time for them now.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He sat down at the desk and dialed
an inter-office number.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The harassed looking face of Walter
Foster faded in. On seeing Larry
Woolford he growled accusingly, <span class="tei tei-q">“My
pal. You've let them dump this
whole thing into my lap.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry grinned at him. <span class="tei tei-q">“Better you
than me, old buddy. Besides, it's a
promotion. Pull this off and you'll be
the Boss' right-hand man.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“That's a laugh,”</span> Foster said. <span class="tei tei-q">“It's a
madhouse. This Movement gang is
as weird as they come.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I bleed for you,”</span> Larry said.
<span class="tei tei-q">“However, here's a tip. Frol Eivazov,
of the <span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">Chrezvychainaya Komissiya</span></span> is
somewhere in the country.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Frol Eivazov!”</span> Foster blurted.
<span class="tei tei-q">“What've the Commies got to do with
this? Is this something the Boss
knows about?”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page049">[pg 049]</span><a name="Pg049" id="Pg049" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Haven't had time to go into it
with him,”</span> Larry said. <span class="tei tei-q">“However, it
seems that friend Frol is here to find
out what the Movement is all about.
Evidently the big boys in Peking
and Moscow are nervous about any
changes that might take place over
here. I suggest you have him picked
up, Walt.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="text-align: center; margin-bottom: 1.00em">
</p><div class="tei tei-figure" style="width: 30%; text-align: center"><img src="images/p49.png" width="210" height="700" alt="Illustration." /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Walt Foster said, <span class="tei tei-q">“O.K. I'll put
some people on it. Maybe the F.B.I.
can help.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry flicked off as he saw the red
priority light on his phone shining.
He pushed it and LaVerne's face
faded in.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She said, <span class="tei tei-q">“This Franklin Nostrand
you wanted to know about. He's evidently
working at the laboratories
over in Newport News, Larry. He'll
be on the job until five this afternoon.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Fine,”</span> he said. Larry grinned at
her. <span class="tei tei-q">“When are we going to have
that date, LaVerne?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She made a face. <span class="tei tei-q">“Some day when
the program involves having fun instead
of parading around in the right
places, driving the right model car,
dressed in exactly the right clothes,
and above all associating with the
right people.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
It was his turn to grimace. <span class="tei tei-q">“I'm beginning
to think you ought to sign up
with Voss and this Movement of his.
You'd be right at home with his
weirds.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She stuck out her tongue at him,
and flicked off.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He looked at the empty screen and
chuckled. He had half a mind to get a
record of their conversation, strip out
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page050">[pg 050]</span><a name="Pg050" id="Pg050" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
just the section where she'd stuck out
her tongue, and then play it back to
her. She'd be taken aback by being
confronted by her own image making
faces at her.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
As he made his way to the parking
lot for his car, something in their
conversation nagged at him, but he
couldn't put his finger on it. He considered
the girl, all over again. She
had almost all the qualities he looked
for. She was attractive, without being
overly so. He disliked women out of
the ordinarily beautiful, it became too
much to live up to. She was sharp,
but not objectionably so. Not to the
point of giving you an inferiority
complex.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
But, Holy Smokes, she'd never do
as a career man's wife. He could just
see the Boss' ultraconservative better
half inviting them to dinner. It
would happen exactly once, never
again.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He obtained his car, lifted it to one
of the higher levels and headed for
Newport News. It was a half-hour
trip and he wasn't particularly expectant
of results. The tip Sam Sokolski
had given him, wasn't much to
go by. Evidently, Frank Nostrand was
a friend of the Professor's but that
didn't necessarily mean he was connected
with the movement, or that he
knew Voss' whereabouts.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He might have saved himself the
trip.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The bird had flown again. Not
only was Frank Nostrand not at the
Madison Air Laboratories, but he
wasn't at home either. Larry Woolford,
mindful of his departmental
chief's words on the prestige these
people carried, took a full hour in acquiring
a search warrant before breaking
into the Nostrand home.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Nostrand was supposedly a bachelor,
but the auto-bungalow, similar to
Larry Woolford's own, showed signs
of double occupancy, and there was
little indication that the guest had
been a woman.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Disgruntled, Larry Woolford dialed
the offices, asked for Walt Foster. It
took nearly ten minutes before his
colleague faded in.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I'm up to my eyebrows, Larry.
What'd you want?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry gave him Frank Nostrand's
address. <span class="tei tei-q">“This guy's disappeared,
Walt.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“So?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“He was a close friend of Professor
Voss. I got a warrant to search his
house. It shows signs that he had a
guest. Possibly it was the Professor.
Do you want to get some of the boys
down here to go through the place?
Possibly there's some clue to where
they took off for. The Professor's on
the run and he's no professional at
this. If we can pick <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">him</span></em> up, I've got a
sneaking suspicion we'll have the so-called
Movement licked.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Walt Foster slapped a hand to his
face in anguish. <span class="tei tei-q">“You knew where
the Professor was hiding, and you
tried to pick him up on your own and
let him get away. Why didn't you
discuss this with either the Boss or
me? I'm in charge of this operation!
I would have had a dozen men down
there. You've fouled this up!”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry stared at him. Already Walt
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page051">[pg 051]</span><a name="Pg051" id="Pg051" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
Foster was making sounds like an
enraged superior.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He said mildly, <span class="tei tei-q">“Sorry, Walt. I
came down here on a very meager
tip. I didn't really expect it to pan
out.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Well, in the future, clear with
either me or the Boss before running
off half cocked into something, Woolford.
Yesterday, you had this whole
assignment on your own. Today, it's
no longer a minor matter. Our department
has fifty people on it. The
F.B.I. must have five times as many
and that's not even counting the Secret
Service's interest. It's no longer
your individual baby.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Sorry,”</span> Larry repeated mildly.
Then, <span class="tei tei-q">“I don't imagine you've got
hold of Frol Eivazov yet?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The other was disgusted. <span class="tei tei-q">“You
think we're magicians? We just put
out the call for him a few hours ago.
He's no amateur. If he doesn't want
to be picked up, he'll go to ground
and we'll have our work cut out for us
finding him. I can't see that it's particularly
important anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Maybe you're right,”</span> Larry said.
<span class="tei tei-q">“But you never know. He might
know things we don't. See you later.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Walt Foster stared at him for a
moment as though about to say something,
but then tightened his lips and
faded off.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry looked at the phone screen
for a moment. <span class="tei tei-q">“Did that phony expect
me to call him <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">sir</span></em>,”</span> he muttered.
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The next two days dissolved into
routine.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Frustrated, Larry Woolford spent
most of his time in his office digesting
developments, trying to find a new
line of attack.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
For want of something else, he put
his new secretary, a brightly efficient
girl, as style and status conscious as
LaVerne Polk wasn't, to work typing
up the tapes he'd had cut on Susan
Self and the various phone calls he'd
had with Hans Distelmayer and Sam
Sokolski. From memory, he dictated
to her his conversation with Professor
Peter Voss.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He carefully read the typed sheets
over and over again. He continually
had the feeling in this case that there
were loose ends dangling around.
Several important points he should be
able to put his finger upon.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
On the morning of the third day he
dialed Steve Hackett and on seeing
the other's worried, pug-ugly face
fade in on the phone, decided that if
nothing else the Movement was undermining
the United States government
by dispensing ulcers to its employees.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve growled, <span class="tei tei-q">“What is it Woolford?
I'm as busy as a whirling dervish
in a revolving door.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“This is just the glimmer of an
idea, Steve. Look, remember that conversation
with Susan, when she described
her father taking her to
headquarters?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“So?”</span> Steve said impatiently.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Remember her description of
headquarters?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Go on,”</span> Steve rapped.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“What did it remind you of?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“What are you leading to?”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page052">[pg 052]</span><a name="Pg052" id="Pg052" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“This is just a hunch,”</span> Larry persisted,
<span class="tei tei-q">“but the way she described the
manner in which her father took her
to headquarters suggests they're in
the Greater Washington area.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve was staring at him disgustedly.
How obvious could you get?
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry hurried on. <span class="tei tei-q">“What's the biggest
business in this area, Steve?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Government.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Right. And the way she described
headquarters of the Movement, was
rooms, after rooms, after rooms into
which they'd stored the money.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“And?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said urgently, <span class="tei tei-q">“Steve, I think
in some way the Movement has taken
over some governmental buildings, or
storage warehouse. Possibly some
older buildings no longer in use. It
would be a perfect hideout. Who
would expect a subversive organization
to be in governmental buildings?
All they'd need would be a few
officials here and there who were on
their side and—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve said wearily, <span class="tei tei-q">“You couldn't
have thought of this two days ago.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry cut himself off sharply,
<span class="tei tei-q">“Eh?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve said, <span class="tei tei-q">“We found their headquarters.
One of their members
cracked. Ben Ruthenberg of the
F.B.I. found he had a morals rap
against him some years ago and scared
him into talking by threats of exposure.
At any rate, you're right. They
had established themselves in some
government buildings going back to
Spanish-American War days. We've
arrested eight or ten officials that
were involved.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“But the money?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“The money was gone,”</span> Steve said
bitterly. <span class="tei tei-q">“But Susan was right. There
had evidently been room after room
of it, stacked to the ceiling. Literally
billions of dollars. They'd moved out
hurriedly, but they left kicking around
enough loose hundreds, fifties, twenties,
tens and fives to give us an idea.
Look, Woolford, I thought you'd
been pulled off this case and that
Walt Foster was handling it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said sourly, <span class="tei tei-q">“I'm beginning
to think so, too. They're evidently not
even bothering to let me know about
developments like this. See you later,
Steve.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The other's face faded off.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford looked across the
double desk at Irene Day. <span class="tei tei-q">“Look,”</span> he
said, <span class="tei tei-q">“when you're offered a promotion,
take it. If you don't, someone
else will and you'll be out in the
cold.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Irene Day said brightly, <span class="tei tei-q">“I've always
know that, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He looked at her. The typical eager
beaver. Sharp as a whip. Bright as a
button. <span class="tei tei-q">“I'll bet you have,”</span> he muttered.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I beg your pardon, Mr. Woolford?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The phone lit as LaVerne said,
<span class="tei tei-q">“The Boss wants to talk to you, Larry.”</span>
Her face faded and Larry's superior
was scowling at him.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He snapped, <span class="tei tei-q">“Did you get anything
on this medical records thing,
Woolford?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Medical records?”</span> Larry said
blankly.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss grunted in deprecation.
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page053">[pg 053]</span><a name="Pg053" id="Pg053" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<span class="tei tei-q">“No, I suppose you haven't. I wish
you would snap into it, Woolford. I
don't know what has happened to you
of late. I used to think that you were
a good field man.”</span> He flicked off
abruptly.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry dialed LaVerne Polk. <span class="tei tei-q">“What
in the world was the Boss just talking
about, LaVerne? About medical records?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
LaVerne said, frowning, <span class="tei tei-q">“Didn't
you know? The Movement's been at
it again. They've fouled up the records
of the State Medical Licensing
bureaus, at the same time sabotaging
the remaining records of most, if not
all, of the country's medical schools.
They struck simultaneously, throughout
the country.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He looked at her, expressionlessly.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
LaVerne said, <span class="tei tei-q">“We've caught several
hundred of those responsible. It's
the same thing. Attack of the social-label.
From now on, if a man tells you
he's an Ear, Eye and Throat specialist,
you'd better do some investigation
before letting him amputate your
tongue. You'd better use your judgment
before letting <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">any</span></em> doctor you
don't really know about, work on
you. It's a madhouse, Larry.”</span>
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford, for long moments
after LaVerne had broken the connection,
stared unseeingly at his secretary
across from him until she stirred.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He brought his eyes back to the
present. <span class="tei tei-q">“Another preliminary move,
not the important thing, yet. Not the
big explosion they're figuring on.
Where have they taken that money,
and why?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Irene Day blinked at him. <span class="tei tei-q">“I don't
know, I'm sure, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Get me Mr. Foster on
the phone, Irene.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
When Walt Foster's unhappy face
faded in, Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Walt did you
get Frol Eivazov?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Eivazov?”</span> the other said impatiently.
<span class="tei tei-q">“No. We haven't spent much
effort on it. I think this hunch of
yours is like the other ones you've
been having lately, Woolford. Frol
Eivazov was last reported by our operatives
as being in North Korea.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“It wasn't a hunch,”</span> Larry said
tightly. <span class="tei tei-q">“He's in this country on an
assignment dealing with the Movement.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Well, that's your opinion,”</span> Foster
said snappishly. <span class="tei tei-q">“I'm busy, Woolford.
See here, at present you're under
my orders on this job. In the way
of something to do, instead of sitting
around in that office, why don't you
follow up this Eivazov thing yourself?”</span>
He considered it a moment.
<span class="tei tei-q">“That's an order, Woolford. Even if
you don't locate him, it'll keep you out
of our hair.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
After the other was gone, Larry
Woolford leaned back in his chair,
his face flushed as though the other
had slapped it. In a way, he had.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said slowly, <span class="tei tei-q">“Miss Day, dial
me Hans Distelmayer. His offices are
over in the Belmont Building.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
As always, the screen remained
blank as the German spy master
spoke.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Hans, I want to talk to
Frol Eivazov.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Ah?”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page054">[pg 054]</span><a name="Pg054" id="Pg054" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I want to know where I can find
him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The German's voice was humorously
gruff. <span class="tei tei-q">“My friend, my friend.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said impatiently, <span class="tei tei-q">“I'm not interested
in arresting him at this time.
I want to talk to him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The other said heavily. <span class="tei tei-q">“This goes
beyond favors, my friend. On the face
of it, I am not in business for my
health. And what you ask is dangerous
from my viewpoint. You realize
that upon occasion my organization
does small tasks for the Soviets....”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Ha!”</span> Larry said bitterly.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“... And,”</span> the German continued,
unruffled, <span class="tei tei-q">“it is hardly to my interest
to gain the reputation of betraying
my sometimes employers.
Were you on an assignment in, say,
Bulgaria or Hungary, would you
expect me to betray you to the
<span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">Chrezvychainaya Komissiya</span></span>?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Not unless somebody paid you
enough to make it worth while,”</span>
Larry said dryly.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Exactly,”</span> the espionage chief said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Look,”</span> Larry said. <span class="tei tei-q">“Send your bill
to this department, Hans. I've been
given carte blanche on this matter
and I want to talk to Frol. Now,
where is he?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The German chuckled heavily.
<span class="tei tei-q">“At the Soviet Embassy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“What! You mean they've got the
gall to house their top spy right in—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Distelmayer interrupted him.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Friend Eivazov is currently accredited
as a military attaché and quite
correctly. He holds the rank of colonel,
you know. He entered this country
quite legally, the only precaution
taken was to use his second name,
Kliment, instead of Frol, on his papers.
Evidently, your people passed
him by without a second look. Ah, I
understand he went to the trouble of
making some minor changes in his
facial appearance.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“We'll expect your bill, Distelmayer,”</span>
Larry said. <span class="tei tei-q">“Good-by.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He got up and reached for his hat,
saying to Irene Day, <span class="tei tei-q">“I don't know
how long I'll be gone.”</span> He added,
wryly, <span class="tei tei-q">“If either Foster or the Boss
try to get in touch with me, tell them
I'm carrying out orders.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He drove over to the Soviet Embassy,
parked his car directly before
the building.
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The American plainclothesmen
stationed near the entrance, gave him
only a quick onceover as he passed.
Inside the gates, the impassive Russian
guards didn't bother to flicker an
eyelid.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
At the reception desk in the immense
entrada, he identified himself.
<span class="tei tei-q">“I'd like to see Colonel Frol Eivazov.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I am afraid—”</span> the clerk began
stiffly.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I suppose you have him on the
records as Kliment Eivazov.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The clerk had evidently touched a
concealed button. A door opened and
a junior embassy official approached
them.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry restated his desire. The other
began to open his mouth in denial,
then shrugged. <span class="tei tei-q">“Just a moment,”</span> he
said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He was gone a full twenty minutes.
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page055">[pg 055]</span><a name="Pg055" id="Pg055" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
When he returned, he said
briefly, <span class="tei tei-q">“This way, please.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Frol Eivazov was in an inner office,
in full uniform. He came to his
feet when Larry Woolford entered
and said to the clerk, <span class="tei tei-q">“That will be
all, Vova.”</span> He was a tall man, as
Slavs go, but heavy of build and
heavy of face.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He shook hands with Larry. <span class="tei tei-q">“It's
been a long time,”</span> he said in perfect
English. <span class="tei tei-q">“That conference in Warsaw,
wasn't it? Have a chair, Mr.
Woolford.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry took the offered chair and
said, <span class="tei tei-q">“How in the world did you expect
to get by with this nonsense?
We'll have you declared <span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">persona non
grata</span></span> in a matter of hours.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“It's not important,”</span> Eivazov
shrugged. <span class="tei tei-q">“I have found what I came
to find. I was about to return to report
any way.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“We won't do anything to hinder
you, colonel,”</span> Larry said dryly.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Eivazov snapped his fingers. <span class="tei tei-q">“It's
all amusing,”</span> he said. <span class="tei tei-q">“In our country
we would quickly deal with this
Movement nonsense. You Americans
with your pseudo-democracy, your
labels without reality, your—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said wearily, <span class="tei tei-q">“Please, Frol, I
promise not to convert you if you
promise not to convert me. Needless
to say, my department isn't happy
about your presence in this country.
You'll be watched from now on.
We've been busy with other matters....”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Here the Russian laughed.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“... Or we'd already have flushed
you.”</span> He allowed his voice to go
curious. <span class="tei tei-q">“We've wondered about your
interest in this phase of our internal
affairs.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Russian agent let his facade
slip over farther, his heavy lips sneering.
<span class="tei tei-q">“We are interested in all phases
of your antiquated socio-economic
system, Mr. Woolford. In the present
peaceful economic competition between
East and West, we would simply
<em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">loathe</span></em> to see anything happen to
your present culture.”</span> He hesitated
deliberately. <span class="tei tei-q">“If you can call it a
culture.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, unprovoked, <span class="tei tei-q">“If I understand
you correctly, you are not in
favor of the changes the Movement
advocates.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Russian shrugged hugely. <span class="tei tei-q">“I
doubt if they are possible of achievement.
The organization is a sloppy
one. Revolutionary? Nonsense,”</span> he
scoffed. <span class="tei tei-q">“They have no plans to
change the government. No plans for
overthrowing the regime. Ultimately,
what this country needs is true
Communism. This so-called Movement
doesn't have that as its eventual
goal. It is laughable.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, interestedly, <span class="tei tei-q">“Then perhaps
you'll tell me what little you've
found out about the group.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Why not?”</span> The Russian pursed
his lips. <span class="tei tei-q">“They are composed of impractical
idealists. Scientists, intellectuals,
a few admitted scholars and
even a few potential leaders. Their
sabotage of your Department of Records
was an amusing farce, but,
frankly, I have been unable to discover
the purpose of their interest in
rockets. For a time I contemplated
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page056">[pg 056]</span><a name="Pg056" id="Pg056" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
the possibility that they had a scheme
to develop a nuclear bomb, and to
explode it over Greater Washington
in the belief that in the resulting
confusion they might seize power.
But, on the face of it their membership
is incapable of such an effort.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Their interest in rockets?”</span> Larry
said softly.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Yes, as you've undoubtedly discovered,
half the rocket technicians of
your country seem to have joined
with them. We got the tip through”</span>—the
Russian cleared his throat—<span class="tei tei-q">“several
of our converts who happen
to be connected with your space
efforts groups.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Is that so?”</span> Larry said. <span class="tei tei-q">“I wondered
what you thought about their
interest in money.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
It was the other's turn to look
blank. <span class="tei tei-q">“Money?”</span> he said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“That's right. Large quantities of
money.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Russian said, frowning, <span class="tei tei-q">“I suppose
most citizens in your capitalist
countries are interested largely in
money. One of your basic failings.”</span>
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Driving back to the office, Larry
Woolford let it pile up on him.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Ernest Self had been a specialist in
solid fuel for rockets. When Larry
had questioned Professor Voss that
worthy had particularly stressed his
indignation at how Professor Goddard,
the rocket pioneer, had been
treated by his contemporaries. Franklin
Nostrand had been employed as a
technician on rocket research at Madison
Air Laboratories. It was too darn
much for coincidence.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
And now something else that had
been nagging away at the back of his
mind suddenly came clear.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Susan Self had said that she and
her father had seen the precision
dancers at the New Roxy Theater in
New York and later the Professor
had said they were going to spend
the money on chorus girls. Susan had
got it wrong. The Rockettes—the
precision chorus girls. The Professor
had said they were going to spend
the money on <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">rockets</span></em>, and Susan had
misunderstood.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
But billions of dollars expended on
rockets? How? But, above all, to
what end?
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
If he'd only been able to hold onto
Susan, or her father; or to Voss or
Nostrand, for that matter. Someone
to work on. But each had slipped
through his fingers.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Which brought something else up
from his subconscious. Something
which had been tugging at him.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
At the office, Irene Day was packing
her things as he entered. Packing
as though she was leaving for good.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“What goes on?”</span> Larry growled.
<span class="tei tei-q">“I'm going to be needing you. Things
are coming to a head.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She said, a bit snippishly, Larry
thought, <span class="tei tei-q">“Miss Polk, in the Boss' office,
said for you to see her as soon as
you came in, Mr. Woolford.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Oh?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He made his way to LaVerne's office,
his attention actually on the ideas
churning in his mind.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She looked up when he entered.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“The Boss wanted to
see me?”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page057">[pg 057]</span><a name="Pg057" id="Pg057" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
LaVerne ducked her head, as
though embarrassed. <span class="tei tei-q">“Not exactly,
Larry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He gestured with his thumb in the
direction of his own cubicle office.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Irene just said you wanted me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
LaVerne looked up into his face.
<span class="tei tei-q">“The Boss and Mr. Foster, too, are
boiling about your authorizing that
Distelmayer man to bill this department
for information he gave you.
The Boss hit the roof. Something
about the Senate Appropriations
Committee getting down on him if it
came out that we bought information
from professional espionage agents.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“It was information we
needed, and Foster gave me the go
ahead on locating Frol Eivazov. Maybe
I'd better see the Boss.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
LaVerne said, <span class="tei tei-q">“I don't think he
wants to see you, Larry. They're up
to their ears in this Movement thing.
It's in the papers <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">now</span></em> and nobody
knows what to do next. The President
is going to make a speech on TriD,
and the Boss has to supply the information.
His orders are for you to
resume your vacation. To take a
month off and then see him when
you get back.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry sank down into a chair. <span class="tei tei-q">“I
see,”</span> he said, <span class="tei tei-q">“And at that time he'll
probably transfer me to janitor service.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Larry,”</span> LaVerne said, almost impatiently,
<span class="tei tei-q">“why in the world didn't
you take that job Walt Foster has
now when the Boss offered it to
you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Because I'm stupid, I suppose,”</span>
Larry said bitterly. <span class="tei tei-q">“I thought I could
do more working alone than at an administrative
post tangled in red tape
and bureaucratic routine.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Sorry, Larry.”</span> She sounded
as though she meant it.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry stood up. <span class="tei tei-q">“Well, tonight I'm
going to hang one on, and tomorrow
it's back to Florida.”</span> He said in a
rush, <span class="tei tei-q">“Look LaVerne, how about that
date we've been talking about for six
months or more?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She looked up at him. <span class="tei tei-q">“I can't
stand vodka martinis.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Neither can I,”</span> he said glumly.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“And I don't get a kick out of
prancing around, a stuffed shirt
among fellow stuffed shirts, at some
goings-on that supposedly improves
my culture status.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said <span class="tei tei-q">“At the house I have
every known brand of drinkable, and
a stack of ... what did you call it? ... corny
music. We can mix our
own drinks and dance all by ourselves.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She tucked her head to one side
and looked at him suspiciously. <span class="tei tei-q">“Are
your intentions honorable?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“We can even discuss that later,”</span>
he said sourly.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She laughed. <span class="tei tei-q">“It's a date, Larry.”</span>
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He picked her up after work, and
they drove to his Brandywine auto-bungalow,
largely quiet the whole
way.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
At one point she touched his hand
with hers and said, <span class="tei tei-q">“It'll work out,
Larry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Yeah,”</span> he said sourly. <span class="tei tei-q">“I've put
ten years into ingratiating myself
with the Boss. Now, overnight, he's
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page058">[pg 058]</span><a name="Pg058" id="Pg058" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
got a new boy. I suppose there's some
moral involved.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
When they pulled up before his
auto-bungalow, LaVerne whistled appreciatively.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Quite a neighborhood
you're in.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He grunted. <span class="tei tei-q">“A good address.
What our friend Professor Voss
would call one more status symbol,
one more social-label. For it I pay
about fifty per cent more rent than
my budget can afford.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He ushered her inside and took her
jacket. <span class="tei tei-q">“Look,”</span> he said, indicating his
living room with a sweep of hand.
<span class="tei tei-q">“See that volume of Klee reproductions
there next to my reading chair?
That proves I'm not a weird. Indicates
my culture status. Actually, my
appreciation of modern art doesn't go
any further than the Impressionists.
But don't tell anybody. See those
books up on my shelves. Same thing.
You'll find everything there that
<em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">ought</span></em> to be on the shelves of any ambitious
young career man.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She looked at him from the side of
her eyes. <span class="tei tei-q">“You're really soured, Larry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Come along,”</span> he said. <span class="tei tei-q">“I want to
show you something.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He took her down the tiny elevator
to his den.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“How hypocritical can you get?”</span>
he asked her. <span class="tei tei-q">“This is where I really
live. But I seldom bring anyone here.
Wouldn't want to get a reputation as
a weird. Sit down, LaVerne, I'll make
a drink. How about a Sidecar?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She sank onto the couch, kicked her
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page059">[pg 059]</span><a name="Pg059" id="Pg059" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
shoes off and slipped her feet under
her. <span class="tei tei-q">“I'd love one,”</span> she said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
His back to her, he brought brandy
and cointreau from his liquor cabinet,
lemon and ice from the tiny refrigerator.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“What?”</span> LaVerne said mockingly.
<span class="tei tei-q">“No auto-bar?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Upstairs with the rest of the status
symbols,”</span> Larry grunted.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He put her drink before her and
turned and went to the record player.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“In the way of corny music, how do
you like that old-timer, Nat Cole?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“King Cole? Love him,”</span> LaVerne
said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The strains of <span class="tei tei-q">“For All We Know”</span>
penetrated the room.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry sat down across from her, finished
half his drink in one swallow.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“I'm beginning to wonder whether
or not this Movement doesn't have
something,”</span> he said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She didn't answer that. They sat in
silence for a while, appreciating the
drink. Nat Cole was singing <span class="tei tei-q">“The
Very Thought of You”</span> now. Larry got
up and made two more cocktails. This
time he sat next to her. He leaned his
head back on the couch and closed
his eyes.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Finally he said softly, <span class="tei tei-q">“When Steve
Hackett and I were questioning Susan,
there was only one other person
who knew that we'd picked her up.
There was only one person other
than Steve and me who could have
warned Ernest Self to make a getaway.
Later on, there was only one
person who could have warned Frank
Nostrand so that he and the Professor
could find a new hideout.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She said sleepily, <span class="tei tei-q">“How long have
you known about that, darling?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“A while,”</span> Larry said, his own voice
quiet. <span class="tei tei-q">“I figured it out when I also decided
how Susan Self was spirited
out of the Greater Washington Hilton,
before we had the time to question
her further. Somebody who had
access to tapes made of me while I
was making phone calls cut out a section
and dubbed in a voice so that
Betsy Hughes, the Secret Service matron
who was watching Susan, was
fooled into believing it was I ordering
the girl to be turned over to the two
Movement members who came to
get her.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
LaVerne stirred comfortably and
let her head sink onto his shoulder.
<span class="tei tei-q">“You're so warm and ... comfortable,”</span>
she said.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said softly, <span class="tei tei-q">“What does the
Movement expect to do with all that
counterfeit money, LaVerne?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She stirred against his shoulder, as
though bothered by the need to talk.
<span class="tei tei-q">“Give it all away,”</span> she said. <span class="tei tei-q">“Distribute
it all over the country and
destroy the nation's social currency.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
It took him a long moment to assimilate
that.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“What have the rockets to do with
it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
She stirred once again, as though
wishing he'd be silent. <span class="tei tei-q">“That's how it
will be distributed. About twenty
rockets, strategically placed, each with
a <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">warhead</span></em> of a couple of tons of
money. Fired to an altitude of a couple
of hundred miles and then the
money is spewed out. In falling, it
will be distributed over cities and
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page060">[pg 060]</span><a name="Pg060" id="Pg060" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
countryside, everywhere. Billions
upon billions of dollars worth.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, so softly as hardly to be
heard, <span class="tei tei-q">“What will that accomplish?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Money is the greatest social-label
of them all. The Professor believes
that through this step the Movement
will have accomplished its purpose.
That people will be forced to utilize
their judgment, rather than depend
upon social-labels.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry didn't follow that, but he had
no time to go further now. He said,
still evenly soft, <span class="tei tei-q">“And when is the
Movement going to do this?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
La Verne moved comfortably. <span class="tei tei-q">“The
trucks go out to distribute the money
tonight. The rockets are waiting. The
firing will take place in a few days.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“And where is the Professor now?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Where the money and the trucks
are hidden, darling. What difference
does it make?”</span> LaVerne said sleepily.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“And where is that?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“At the Greater Washington
Trucking Corporation. It's owned by
one of the Movement's members.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He said. <span class="tei tei-q">“There's a password. What
is it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Judgment.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry Woolford bounced to his feet.
He looked down at her, then over at
the phone. In three quick steps he
was over to it. He grasped its wires
and yanked them from the wall, silencing
it. He slipped into the tiny
elevator, locking the door to the den
behind him.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
As the door slid closed, her voice
wailed, still sleepily husky, <span class="tei tei-q">“Larry,
darling, where are you—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He ran down the walk of the house,
vaulted into the car and snapped on
its key. He slammed down the lift
lever, kicked the thrust pedal and
was thrown back against the seat by
the acceleration.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Even while he was climbing, he
flicked on the radio-phone, called
Personal Service for the location of
the Greater Washington Trucking
Corporation.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Fifteen minutes later, he parked a
block away from his destination, noting
with satisfaction that it was still
an hour or more to go until dark. His
intuition, working doubletime now,
told him that they'd probably wait until
nightfall to start their money-laden
trucks to rolling.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He hesitated momentarily before
turning on the phone and dialing the
Boss' home address.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
When the other's face faded in, it
failed to display pleasure when the
caller's identity was established. His
superior growled, <span class="tei tei-q">“Confound it,
Woolford, you know my privacy is to
be respected. This phone is to be
used only in extreme emergency.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Yes, sir,”</span> Larry said briskly. <span class="tei tei-q">“It's
the Movement—”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The other's face darkened still further.
<span class="tei tei-q">“You're not on that assignment
any longer, Woolford. Walter Foster
has taken over and I'm sympathetic to
his complaints that you've proven
more a hindrance than anything
else.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry ignored his words, <span class="tei tei-q">“Sir, I've
tracked them down. Professor Voss is
at the Greater Washington Trucking
Corporation garages here in the Alexandria
section of town. Any moment
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page061">[pg 061]</span><a name="Pg061" id="Pg061" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
now, they're going to start distribution
of all that counterfeit money on
some scatterbrain plan to disrupt the
country's exchange system.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Suddenly alert, the department
chief snapped, <span class="tei tei-q">“Where are you, Woolford?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Outside the garages, sir. But I'm
going in now.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“You stay where you are,”</span> the other
snapped. <span class="tei tei-q">“I'll have every department
man and every Secret Service man in
town over there within twenty minutes.
You hang on. Those people are
lunatics, and probably desperate.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Inwardly, Larry Woolford grinned.
He wasn't going to lose this opportunity
to finish up the job with him on
top. He said flatly, <span class="tei tei-q">“Sir, we can't
chance it. They might escape. I'm going
in!”</span> He flicked off the set, dialed
again and raised Sam Sokolski.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Sam,”</span> he said, his voice clipped.
<span class="tei tei-q">“I've cornered the Movement's leader
and am going in for the finish. Maybe
some of you journalist boys better get
on over here.”</span> He gave the other the
address and flicked off before there
were any questions.
</p>
<div class="tei tei-tb"><hr style="width: 50%" /></div>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
From the dash compartment he
brought a heavy automatic, and
checked the clip. He put it in his hip
pocket and left the car and walked
toward the garages. Time was running
out now.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He strode into the only open door,
without shift of pace. Two men were
posted nearby, neither of them truckmen
by appearance. They looked at
him in surprise.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry clipped out, <span class="tei tei-q">“The password
is <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">Judgment</span></em>. I've got to see Professor
Voss immediately.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
One of them frowned questioningly,
but the other was taken up with
the urgency in Woolford's voice. He
nodded with his head. <span class="tei tei-q">“He's over
there in the office.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Now ignoring them completely,
Larry strode past the long rows of
sealed delivery vans toward the office.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He pushed the door open, entered
and closed it behind him.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Professor Peter Voss was seated at
a paper-littered desk. There was a cot
with an army blanket in a corner of
the room, some soiled clothing and
two or three dirty dishes on a tray.
The room was being lived in, obviously.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
At the agent's entry, the little man
looked up and blinked in distress
through his heavy lenses.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry snapped, <span class="tei tei-q">“You're under arrest,
Voss.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The professor was obviously dismayed,
but he said in as vigorous a
voice as he could muster, <span class="tei tei-q">“Nonsense!
On what charge?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Counterfeiting, among many.
Your whole scheme has fallen apart,
Voss. You and your Movement, so-called,
are finished.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The professor's eyes darted, left,
right. To Larry Woolford's surprise,
the Movement's leader was alone in
here. Undoubtedly, he was awaiting
others, drivers of the trucks, technicians
involved in the rockets, other
subordinates. But right now he was
alone.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
If Woolford correctly diagnosed
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page062">[pg 062]</span><a name="Pg062" id="Pg062" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
the situation, Voss was playing for
time, waiting for the others. Good
enough, so was Larry Woolford. Had
the Professor only known it, a shout
would have brought at least two followers
and the government agent
would have had his work cut out for
him.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Woodford played along. <span class="tei tei-q">“Just what
is this fantastic scheme of yours for
raining down money over half the
country, Voss? The very insanity of it
proves your whole outfit is composed
of a bunch of nonconformist weirds.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor was indignant—and
stalling for time. He said, <span class="tei tei-q">“Nonconformists
is correct! He who conforms
in an incompetent society is an incompetent
himself.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry stood, his legs apart and
hands on hips. He shook his head in
simulated pity at the angry little man.
<span class="tei tei-q">“What's all this about raining money
down over the country?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Don't you see?”</span> the other said.
<span class="tei tei-q">“The perfect method for disrupting
our present system of social-labels.
With billions of dollars, perfect counterfeit,
strewing the streets, the fields,
the trees, available for anyone to pick
up, all social currency becomes worthless.
Utterly unusable. And it's no use
to attempt to print more with another
design, because we can duplicate
it as well. Our experts are the
world's best, we're not a group of
sulking criminals but capable, trained,
dedicated men.</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Very well! We will have made it
absolutely impossible to have any
form of mass-produced social currency.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry stared at him. <span class="tei tei-q">“It would completely
foul the whole business system!
You'd have chaos!”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“At first. Private individuals, once
the value of money was seen to be
zero, would have lost the amount of
cash they had on hand. But banks
and such institutions would lose little.
They have accurate records that
show the actual values they held at
the time our money rains down.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry was bewildered. <span class="tei tei-q">“But what
are you getting at? What do you expect
to accomplish?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor, on his favorite subject,
said triumphantly, <span class="tei tei-q">“The only
form of currency that can be used
under these conditions is the <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">personal</span></em>
check. It's not mass produced, and
mass-production can't duplicate it.
It's immune to the attack. Business
has to go on, or people will starve—so
personal checks will have to replace
paper money. Credit cards and
traveler's checks won't do—we can
counterfeit them, too, and will, if
necessary. Realize of course that hard
money will still be valid, but it can't
be utilized practically for any but
small transactions. Try taking enough
silver dollars to buy a refrigerator
down to the store with you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“But what's the purpose?”</span> Larry
demanded, flabbergasted.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Isn't it obvious? Our whole Movement
is devoted to the destruction of
social-label judgments. It's all very
well to say: <span class="tei tei-hi"><span style="font-style: italic">You should not judge
your fellow men</span></span> but when it comes to
accepting another man's personal
check, friend, you damn well have to!
The bum check artist might have a
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page063">[pg 063]</span><a name="Pg063" id="Pg063" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
field day to begin with—but only to
begin with.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry shook his head in exasperation.
<span class="tei tei-q">“You people are a bunch of
anarchists,”</span> he accused.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“No,”</span> the Professor denied. <span class="tei tei-q">“Absolutely
not. We are the antithesis of
the anarchist. The anarchist says, <span class="tei tei-q">‘No
man is capable of judging another.’</span>
We say, <span class="tei tei-q">‘Each man must judge his fellow,
must demand proper evaluation
of him.’</span> To judge a man by his
clothes, the amount of money he
owns, the car he drives, the neighborhood
in which he lives, or the society
he keeps, is out of the question in a
vital culture.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said sourly, <span class="tei tei-q">“Well, whether
or not you're right, Voss, you've lost.
This place is surrounded. My men
will be breaking in shortly.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Voss laughed at him. <span class="tei tei-q">“Nonsense.
All you've done is prevent us from
accomplishing this portion of our
program. What will you do after my
arrest? You'll bring me to trial. Do
you remember the Scopes' Monkey
Trial back in the 1920s which became
a world appreciated farce and
made Tennessee a laughingstock?
Well, just wait until you get <em class="tei tei-emph"><span style="font-style: italic">me</span></em> into
court backed by my organization's resources.
We'll bring home to every
thinking person, not only in this
country, but in the world, the fantastic
qualities of our existing culture.
Why, Mr.-Secret-Agent-of-Anti-Subversive-Activity
you aren't doing me
an injury by giving me the opportunity
to have my day in court. You're
doing me a favor. Newspapers, radios,
TriD will give me the chance to expound
my program in the home of
every thinking person in the world.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
There was a fiery dedication in the
little man's eyes. <span class="tei tei-q">“This will be my
victory, not my defeat!”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
There were sounds now, coming
from the other rooms—the garages.
Some shouts and scuffling. Faintly,
Larry Woolford could hear Steve
Hackett's voice.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He was staring at the Professor, his
eyes narrower.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor was on his feet. He
said in defiant triumph, <span class="tei tei-q">“You think
that you'll win prestige and honor as
a result of tracking the Movement
down, don't you, Mr. Woolford?
Well, let me tell you, you won't! In
six months from now, Mr. Woolford,
you'll be a laughingstock.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
That did it.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry said, <span class="tei tei-q">“You're under arrest.
Turn around with your back to me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Professor snorted his contempt,
turned his back and held up
his hands, obviously expecting to be
searched.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
In a fluid motion, Larry Woolford
drew his gun and fired twice. The
other with no more than a grunt of
surprise and pain, stumbled forward
to his knees and then to the floor, his
arms and legs akimbo.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The door broke open and Steve
Hackett, gun in hand, burst in.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Woolford!”</span> he barked. <span class="tei tei-q">“What's
up?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry indicated the body on the
floor. <span class="tei tei-q">“There you are, Steve,”</span> he said.
<span class="tei tei-q">“The head of the counterfeit ring. He
was trying to escape. I had to shoot
him.”</span>
</p>
<span class="tei tei-pb" id="page064">[pg 064]</span><a name="Pg064" id="Pg064" class="tei tei-anchor"></a>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Behind Steve Hackett crowded Ben
Ruthenberg of the F.B.I. and behind
him half a dozen others of various
departments.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss came pushing his way
through.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
He glared down at the Professor's
body, then up at Larry Woolford.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
<span class="tei tei-q">“Good work, Lawrence,”</span> he
said. <span class="tei tei-q">“How did you bring it off?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry replaced the gun in his holster
and shrugged modestly. <span class="tei tei-q">“The
Polk girl gave me the final tip-off,
sir. I gave her some Scop-Serum in a
drink and she talked. Evidently, she
was a member of the Movement.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
The Boss was nodding wisely. <span class="tei tei-q">“I've
had my eye on her, Lawrence. An obvious
weird. But we will have to suppress
that Scop-Serum angle.”</span> He
slapped his favorite field man on the
arm jovially. <span class="tei tei-q">“Well, boy, this means
promotion, of course.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry grinned. <span class="tei tei-q">“Thanks, sir. All in
a day's work. I don't think we'll
have much trouble with the remnants
of this Movement thing. The pitch is
to treat them as counterfeiters, not
subversives. Try them for that. Their
silly explanations of what they were
going to do with the money will never
be taken seriously.”</span> He looked down
at the small corpse. <span class="tei tei-q">“Particularly now
that their kingpin is gone.”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
A new wave of agents, F.B.I. men
and prisoners washed into the room
and Steve Hackett and Larry were for
a moment pushed back into a corner
by themselves.
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Steve looked at him strangely and
said, <span class="tei tei-q">“There's one thing I'd like to
know: Did you really have to shoot
him, Woolford?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
Larry brushed it off. <span class="tei tei-q">“What's the
difference? He was as weird as they
come, wasn't he?”</span>
</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">
THE END
</p>
</div>
</div>
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