illions of citizens in the UIPS,
we're all tagged and catalogued. It's a simple job
for the computers to correlate any unique manpower
requirements the government might have to the UIPS
index, cross-check phys-psy profiles, professions
and technical skills plus experience, competence,
reliability and anything else that we crank in as
rating factors. You mentioned 'three men and
three women'; your mission can not exclude
gender compatibility consistent with the prevailing
psychosocial construct -- this is what we are.

"In my line of work, our data bank produces
an optimal selection of personalities, skills and
identities for the best possible teams we might
need to support our contingency plans. Old stuff;
we've been doing that throughout history. Why you
folks? The computer selected you, showed where
each of you was located and why, and that you were
all, shall we say, relatively unknown and available.
None of you will be missed."

Brad and Ram locked eyes as Ram added, "As far as
the mission goes, you and your colleagues were sent
here for confinement and rehab, whatever the reason
and however rehab was to be done. It's just that
your team has been diverted. Coddling and other
amenities of confinement are not part of our
program. If you feel you're being treated unfairly,
that's unfortunate. We need every qualified man
and woman we can get. The prime requisite is that
the team, meaning you and your colleagues, have
and share the intelligence, initiative, guts and
whatever else it takes to do the job."

"That's another point right there," Brad shot
back. "You've assigned us a mission, you tell us it's
dangerous, and then add, as an aside, you've judged
us up to it, whatever in hell that's supposed to
mean. But let me tell you, if I'm the guy to run
it, I want to know a lot more. I've got to have
confidence each team member will be there when
the chips are down. So, what can I expect?"

For a moment, Ram gazed shrewdly at Brad. His
eyes twinkled, and his features mustered a sly grin.

"You seem to have slipped into the role of team
Commander," he said.

Brad looked away, hesitated a moment, and rubbed
his jaw thoughtfully.

"Well," he said, "I agree with what you've said
about the mess we're in. No question in my mind
that Slingshot is our only option. Obviously, I
have nothing else on my schedule. Just doing time
in this tin can would be a bore. But that doesn't
justify your pushing me -- us -- aro