s program. Straight routine
work, but about four times normal speed. The toughest part of it will be
following the lead that Chris and I set. Don't be surprised at
anything, and act like it happens every day."

"Yes, Mr. Marlowe."

"Right."

Bussard looked uncomfortable. "Ah ... Mr. Marlowe?"

"Yes?"

"About this man, Harrison. I presume all this is the result of what
happened to him on Dovenil. Do you think there's any foundation in truth
for what they say he did? Or do you think it's just an excuse to get him
off their world?"

Marlowe looked at him coldly. "Don't be an ass," he snorted.

VIII.

Martin Holliday climbed slowly out of the shuttle's lock and moved
fumblingly down the stairs, leaning on the attendant's arm. His face was
a mottled gray, and his hands shook uncontrollably. He stepped down to
the tarmac and his head turned from side to side as his eyes gulped the
field's distances.

Marlowe sat behind the desk that had been put down in the middle of this
emptiness, his eyes brooding as he looked at Holliday. Bussard stood
beside him, trying nervously to appear noncommittal, while Mead went up
to the shaking old man, grasped his hand, and brought him over to the
desk.

Marlowe shifted uncomfortably. The desk was standard size, and he had to
sit far away from it. He could not feel at ease in such a position.

His thick fingers went into the side pocket of his jacket and peeled the
film off a candy bar, and he began to eat it, holding it in his left
hand, as Mead introduced Holliday.

"How do you do, Mr. Holliday?" Marlowe said, his voice higher than he
would have liked it, while he shook the man's hand.

"I'm ... I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Secretary," Holliday replied. His
eyes were darting past Marlowe's head.

"This is Mr. Bussard, of Emigration, and you know Mr. Mead, of course.
Now, I think we can all sit down."

Mead's chair was next to Holliday's, and Bussard's was to one side of
the desk, so that only Marlowe, unavoidably, blocked his complete view
of the stretching tarmac.

"First of all, Mr. Holliday, I'd like to thank you for coming back.
Please believe me when I say we would not have made such a request if it
were not urgently necessary."

"It's all right," Holliday said in a low, apologetic voice. "I don't
mind."

Marlowe winced, but he had to go on.

"Have you seen a news broadcast recently, Mr. Holliday?"

The man shook his head in embarrassment. "No, sir. I've bee