thunder hit Colihan squarely. He swallowed hard, and then managed to
say:

"Anybody, sir. Me, for instance."

The President's face suddenly relaxed.

"I'm no tyrant, my boy. You know that. I'm just doing a job, that's
all."

"Of course, sir--"

"Well, all I want you to do is keep your eye on things. It could be a
coincidence of course. That's the _logical_ explanation." He narrowed
his eyes. "What do _you_ think, Ralph?"

"Me, sir?" said Ralph, wide-eyed. "I don't _think_, sir. I ACT, sir!"

"Good boy!" The boss chuckled and clapped his hand on Colihan's
shoulder. Moss was momentarily satisfied.

* * * * *

The Personnelovac burped.

Colihan picked up the card with a groan. It was pink.

He walked over to the Action Chute and dropped it inside. As it
fluttered down below, Colihan shook his head sadly. "Thirty-one," he
said.

He placed the next personnel record into the Information chamber. He
flipped the lever, and the Personnelovac, now hot with usage, winked,
chittered, chortled, and chuckled with amazing speed. The burp was
almost joyful as the card popped out. But Colihan's face was far from
joyful as he picked it up.

Pink.

"Thirty-two," he said.

The next card was from Grimswitch's department. It was Subject #52098.
The number was familiar. Colihan decided to check the file.

"Sam Gilchrist," he said. "_Couldn't_ be anything wrong with Sam. Why,
he's a blinkin' _genius_!"

Flip. Wink. Chitter. Chortle. Chuckle. BURP!

Pink.

"Poor Sam!" said Colihan.

He fed the other records through quickly.

Pink.

Pink.

PINK.

At the end of the day, Colihan worked laboriously with a blunt-pointed
pencil. It took him fifteen minutes for the simple calculation.

"Sixty-seven tests. Twenty-three okay. Forty-four--"

Colihan put his hands to his head. "What am I going to _do_?"

* * * * *

Grimswitch followed Colihan down the hall as he came out of the boss's
office for the third time that week.

"Well!" he said fatuously. "Quite the teacher's pet, these days. Eh,
Colihan?"

"Go away, Grimswitch."

"On the carpet, eh? Temper a little short? Don't worry." Grimswitch's
beefy hand made unpleasant contact with the Personnel man's shoulder.
"Your old friends won't let you down."

"Grimswitch, will you please let me alone?"

"Better watch that think-machine of yours," Grimswitch chuckled. "Might
fire _you_ next, old boy."

C