, a look of
wild disbelief on his face ... he staggered, and seemed about to cry or
go hysterical or both.

Mandleco gave a snort as he pounced, recovered the tape and with blunt
assurance read the words aloud:

"SOLUTION : UNTENABLE : SOLUTION : UNTENABLE : SUB-CIRCUIT REFERRAL :
ELLERY SHERLOCK : SUB-CIRCUIT REFERRAL: ELLERY SHERLOCK--"

He sounded like a well-grooved parrot. Mandleco turned east, then south,
then south-by-east, like a compass on a binge; he looked as if he wanted
to roar, but his voice came out as a frantic bleat: "Why, this is crazy!
Goddam it, it's crazy! Do you realize what this will--" He confronted
Arnold wildly. "What the hell does it MEAN, I say! Untenable? And who
the hell is _Ellery Sherlock...!_"

He got no response; Jeff Arnold was oblivious to the moment, a man
utterly defeated, beyond solace or action or answer ... but already a
few of his techs were huddled about the panel, consulting, viewing the
Equate Constant and frantically taking notes. Mandleco shoved his way
through them. "I demand to know the meaning of this!" he yelped.

* * * * *

It was Sheila Carmack who answered, her voice on the high edge of
hysteria. "_Meaning?_ I think it might mean," she said, "that ECAIAC has
also had a recent indulgence for the _whodunits_. But with a smattering
of confusion, wouldn't you say? Or would you say a distortion of the
detectival? Perhaps a disenchantment," she murmured ... this was too
absurd, too delicious. "Ellery Sherlock!" she choked, and the thought of
it seemed to break her up.

In the general hysteria they paid no heed to Raoul Beardsley. He had
regained his composure, and far down in his eyes something leaped into
rapt expression; he adjusted his glasses and peered around cautiously,
beaming. He beamed at them all, and had to suppress an inane glee....

Not glee as he observed Pederson, who stood there scowling into space
as though at some incredible absurdity. Suddenly Pederson straightened,
and there was something strangely different ... his gaze as it met
Beardsley's was neither shocked nor accusing but held an expression of
boundless sadness.

_So Pederson knew. At last the poor fellow had found that other
answer...._ Beardsley had been expecting it. He could almost sense the
man's thoughts going to and fro, like a shuttle, weaving all the facts
into fabric....

And Pederson's voice, ineffably sad now, regretful now: "So I was right