are to join me?"

Howell said indignantly:

"This is ridiculous! This is absurd!"

"Uh-uh," said Sergeant Bellews benignly. "This is the armed forces.
There'll be an order makin' some sort of sense come along later.
Meanwhile, I can brief you guys on Mahon machines so you'll be ready to
start up again with better information when a clearance order does come
through. And I got some beer in my quarters behind the Rehab Shop. Come
along with me!"

He led the way out of the room. The young lieutenant paused to close the
door firmly behind him and to lock it. A bored private, with side-arms,
took post before it. The lieutenant was a very conscientious young man.

But he did not interfere with the parade to Sergeant Bellews' quarters.
The young lieutenant was very military, and the ways of civilians were
not his concern. If eminent scientists chose to go to Sergeant Bellews'
quarters instead of the Officers Club, to which their assimilated rank
entitled them, it was strictly their affair.

* * * * *

They reached the Rehab Shop, and Sergeant Bellews went firmly to a
standby-light-equipped refrigerator in his quarters. He brought out beer
and deftly popped off the tops. The icebox door closed quietly.

"Here's to crime," said Sergeant Bellews amiably.

He drank. Howell sipped gloomily. Graves drank thoughtfully. Lecky
looked anticipative.

"Sergeant," he said, "did I see a gleam in your eye just now?"

Sergeant Bellews reflected, gently shaking his opened beer-can with a
rotary motion, for no reason whatever.

"Uh-uh," he rumbled. "I wouldn't say a gleam. But you mighta seen a
glint. I got some ideas from what I seen during that broadcast. I wanna
get to work on 'em. Here's the place to do the work. We got facilities
here."

Howell said with precise hot anger:

"This is the most idiotic situation I have ever seen even in government
service!"

"You ain't been around much," the sergeant told him kindly. "It happens
everywhere. All the time. It ain't even a exclusive feature of the armed
forces." He put down his beer-can and patted his stomach. "There's guys
who sit up nights workin' out standard operational procedures just to
make things like this happen, everywhere. The colonel hadda do what he
did. He's got orders, too. But he felt bad. So he sent the lieutenant to
tell us. He does the colonel's dirty jobs--and he loves his work."

* * * * *

H